


Chasing Dreams

by SpicedGold



Category: Naruto
Genre: Abuse of techniques because I can, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angst, Brotherly Fluff, Family Issues, Fluff, Fourth Shinobi War, Itachi can't catch a break, M/M, Making Out, Nervous author winging it, Non-Penetrative Sex, Occasional humour so its not completely depressing, Original characters - minor - Freeform, Screwing with Canon, Slow Build, Some politics, Uchihas don't know when to quit, happy ending eventually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2018-12-22 12:06:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 45
Words: 157,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11967045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicedGold/pseuds/SpicedGold
Summary: If you were the most powerful village - the most powerful shinobi - then no one would try to stand against you. And if no one would dare to stand against you, there would be no fighting, no conflict, no war.Being the best meant bringing the world peace.It would be a long, hard road, but maybe, if you had the right people at your side and the right mind and abilities, it was possible.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Long, tedious author's note ahead: I don't usually write AU work. I don't write canon diverging work. So this is a big deal for me, and a little scary. I'm out in untested waters now. But, I thought I would try this, and see if anyone liked it. This will be the first story I'm writing where I don't already have the entire story and ending planned out (Also scary - I like to plan and keep everything under control). 
> 
> I'm expecting this story to finish at about 150 000 words, so buckle in for a long ride. Hopefully not too boring.
> 
> Chapter updates will not be on a regular schedule, but rather whenever I have the time. I am hoping to not go longer than about two weeks between updates, but can't promise anything. Chapter length will also vary.
> 
> Feedback would be greatly appreciated if you have the time because I am really, really uncertain about the quality of this story. Other than that, I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Thank you for reading  
> SpicedGold
> 
> Edit after completing story: Well those were unfounded fears. Thanks for the support.

 

 

Peace.

That was all he wanted. It was all the world needed.

And the way to achieve it had to be through power. Because if you were the most powerful, no one would oppose you. People would want to form alliances with you, to keep themselves safe, and the more allies you had, the less likely those not aligned with you would want to challenge you.

And that created peace.

“You want the whole world to be friends, and you’re going to achieve this by being the best shinobi the Leaf has ever seen?”

And, well, when Shisui put it like that it sounded naïve and even a bit ridiculous, but, in essence, “Yes.”

“One problem, though.”

Ten-year-old Itachi heaved a sigh. Shisui was forever finding ‘problems’ in his plans. “What is it _this_ time?”

“You can’t be the best shinobi in the Leaf.”

Somewhat affronted, Itachi took his gaze off the village below them and turned it to his incorrigible cousin. “Why not?”

“Because that’s gonna be me,” Shisui grinned.

“Well,” Itachi stared at the village again, and shifted to sit more comfortably on the warm red tiles of the roof. “The plan could work with you, too.”

“So that’s your dream, huh? Peace.” Shisui leant his weight on his palms, upper body inclined slightly backwards. “Sounds good. Let’s do it.”

“Just like that?” Itachi blinked. “It’s not an easy dream.”

“Nothing worth having comes easy.” Shisui replied breezily. “I mean, being friends with you is a constant challenge.”

Being the quick-witted genius that he was, Itachi picked out Shisui’s subtle subtext. “So you’re saying . . . being friends with me is something worth having?”

Shisui’s smile was bright. “Of course. I told you – it’s you and me, and we’ll get that dream of yours and make it real.”

Itachi was momentarily speechless. After acknowledging the monumental declaration from his friend, he added, “Thank you.”

Sitting in the fading sunshine with Shisui, it sounded attainable. But, then again, everything always seemed possible when Shisui was at his side. He sent the older boy a sideways smile.

Shisui returned the smile, and lifted a hand to pat his best friend on the shoulder. “You and me, Itachi. That’s all we need.”

Itachi nodded, dark eyes soft and pleased.

_All we need . . ._

He breathed in deeply, eyes back on the village. _All we need . . . and all I want._

 

 


	2. 1 - A Bloodless Revolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Diving right in with canon divergence - scary.

There was a hiccup in the dream, something standing in the way of Itachi’s naïve and idiotic belief that the world could be at peace, and it stemmed from his very own family.

A coup against the Leaf.

“It’s a bit of a snag,” Shisui admitted, folding his arms pensively and watching the water crash down next to them. “I mean, a war is hardly the direction we want to go in.”

“What are we going to do?” Itachi asked, looking far too serious for his mere thirteen years of existence.

“Stop it, of course.”

“How?”

Shisui offered him a crooked smile. “Come on, there’s nothing we can’t do. You know all the politics and crap surrounding this, but I think the Hokage wants to talk it over. He wants this to end without violence. The trick is getting the clan to agree to that.”

“All we really need is for my father to agree,” Itachi said sensibly. “As Head of Clan, everyone else will follow his command – even if they disagree. I think I can convince him. I don’t think he _wants_ to go through with the coup, but he’s feeling like there isn’t another option available. I just need to find a better path for us.”

“I’ll follow you,” Shisui said, looking seriously into the younger boy’s eyes. “Whatever path you lead us to, I’ll follow you the whole way. Always. So, go find the path we need.”

Itachi nodded. He knew exactly what he needed.

The next day he spoke with the council, relaying everything he knew about the coup, the expected date, the members of the clan most prevalent in it, as well as clan members who were against it. He reported his findings amongst the Anbu, amongst the Uchiha, everything, and by the time he was finished, Hiruzen heaved a sigh.

“Itachi, I know you’re trying your best to prevent this coup. But our time is running out. We will need to do something soon. However, I don’t want to make a pre-emptive strike against the Uchiha. We need to find another way.”

Hiruzen had been saying the same thing for the last several meetings, and the repetition was starting to irritate Itachi. He supressed an ill-tempered sigh. “I am aware of that. I believe my father could be persuaded to change his mind.”

There was also the possibility of outright rebellion on Shisui and Itachi’s parts. There was no way the coup would move forward without them. But so far Itachi had been torn on confronting his father – he desperately wanted to avoid a war, but at the same time the thought of disappointing his father was sickening. He had never felt so trapped.

“I see.” The Hokage regarded Itachi seriously. “The council will need to discuss possibilities. Could you buy us some more time?”

_I’ve been doing that for weeks, and you’ve done nothing._ “I will do my best.”

“Thank you, Itachi.”

So yet another meeting ended with nothing more achieved. Itachi was ready to pull his hair out; at his wits end about the whole scenario. He sat down, frustrated, in the Anbu locker room, letting his breath out in one big, annoyed whoosh.

He sat there for what felt like ages, just thinking, planning, agonising. Until, finally out of whirring thoughts, he straightened up and prepared to go home. Maybe some vigorous training would take his mind off it – or inspire a solution he hadn’t yet considered.

He passed Danzo on his way from the building, pointedly ignoring the old man. Danzo had always made his skin crawl, and any time he could avoid interacting with him, he took the opportunity.

Today, however, was not his day.

“Itachi,” Danzo called for him as he was about to leave.

Itachi hesitated, only momentarily, before answering. “Yes?”

“Come with me. I have something to discuss with you.” Like everything else Danzo said, it put Itachi on edge. But he followed anyway, uneasy. Danzo led him into his private office, and closed the door.

It was just the two of them. Itachi could feel no one else nearby. That was unusual, there was generally at least one Foundation shinobi hanging around whenever Itachi was near Danzo. He decided not to dwell on it for now, though.

“As you well know,” Danzo said, moving to take a seat behind his desk. “If the coup goes forward, internal warfare will break out in the Leaf. Being that you are situated on both sides of the conflict, as an Uchiha and a Leaf shinobi, a hard decision will be upon you. I am offering you an opportunity to stop this before it gets out of hand.”

“How?” Itachi asked.

Danzo held up a sealed scroll. “I wish to speak to your father and mother. Privately. I agree with Hiruzen, this can be settled by words rather than conflict. I would like a meeting with the two of them here, and I feel that we will be able to come to a suitable agreement.”

This seemed . . . out of character. Itachi was wary, but at the same time thrilled, because the thought of avoiding war was exciting. There was a little bubble of joy – Danzo also believed there was a better way – that flared in his chest. He fought to keep it from spilling out.

“Please take this to your father,” Danzo handed the scroll over, and Itachi took it with reverence, because it contained a peaceful future, and he didn’t think it would be this easy to obtain. “And tomorrow, with any luck, we can put this whole debacle to rest.”

Itachi nodded; secretly delighted. As easy as that, he had been handed the solution he wanted. The solution everyone wanted.

“You’re dismissed,” Danzo said, busying himself with something else. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Itachi bowed low, leaving the room with more speed than was strictly necessary. He couldn’t help it, he just wanted to get home. He exited the building, nodding at the masked Foundation members he passed. It was not unusual to see them around here; they were Danzo’s personal army, as it were, and wherever Danzo was, there was usually a Foundation shinobi or two lingering.

But not always the whole Foundation. Itachi quietly counted them off, some visible, some hidden, some closer than others. Thirteen.

He wondered what they were all doing.

There must be an important mission looming. He tightened his grip on the scroll, and flickered his way home.

 

“Tomorrow will be an important day for you all,” Danzo said, resting his chin on his folded hands and narrowing his visible eye at the assembled Foundation. “I will need you all to complete this task. I have a meeting with Uchiha Fugaku tomorrow. I need five of you on standby with me. We will kill him, and Mikoto. Four more of you will be outside, and will take care of Itachi. It seems a pity to lose an asset as useful as him, but it cannot be helped. I will tell the council that they attacked us, and the only way to defend ourselves was their death.

“With them dead, the Uchiha clan will want to attack the Leaf, and we can then defend ourselves publicly, without internal debate. The Uchiha can be eliminated, and they will forever be known as traitors to the Leaf. Peace will be restored in our village. With their strongest shinobi dead, they will not be difficult to overcome. Which brings me to the last part my plan.” He eyed the shinobi in the room.

“The last four of you are to find and dispose of Uchiha Shisui. He is their strongest; once we have him eliminated, the clan will not be a great threat. There will be no danger of war – just the slaughter of the Uchiha clan. You must be sure to eliminate Shisui while I have Fugaku and Itachi with me. Once they are dead, and Uchiha clan is restless, I will need Shisui’s power. Bring me his eyes – be very careful not to harm them while you kill him.”

Danzo sat up straighter, a self-satisfied smile gracing his face. “The Leaf will be rid of the Uchiha clan, finally, and I will possess their strongest power. I will discuss a strategy for each group individually. Those of you taking on Itachi and Shisui will need to follow my directions closely – neither of those boys are to be underestimated. Especially Shisui.”

There was no murmur from the Foundation, but Danzo expected none. He didn’t need them to speak; he needed them to listen. He sat back with a grim smile. Tomorrow, all the Leaf’s problems would go away.


	3. 2 - The World Upside Down

“A meeting with Danzo?” Fugaku frowned at the scroll.

Itachi, sitting quietly opposite him, nodded. “He wants to speak to you about the clan, and a possible way forward that will please everyone. You wanted me to find a different way to end things, without bloodshed.”

There was a rare smile on Fugaku’s usually serious face. “I’m proud of you, Itachi. You did the impossible.”

Itachi returned the smile briefly.

“We will meet with Danzo tomorrow, and the Uchiha clan can once again be integrated into the village.” Fugaku rolled the scroll up again. “I’m very glad things worked out this way. There is a clan meeting tomorrow evening. I will be very happy to let everyone know that the coup will not be needed.”

The happy bubble was back in Itachi’s chest. He was one step closer to peace. There would be no war, and no one lost in a fight that didn’t need to happen. He was keeping his promise, he was walking his path. He was making a future for his brother.

He went to bed that night feeling a satisfying calm throughout his being. Tomorrow, the clan and the Leaf would reconcile, and Itachi could continue his quest, having avoided a war.

There was nothing to do in the morning but wait.

Sasuke left for the Academy after breakfast, and was surprised by a spontaneous hug from his brother. Itachi couldn’t help it, he was just too excited for the day. At Sasuke’s doubtful raised eyebrows, Itachi explained, “Today’s important for me. Today, the whole world changes.”

“Changes into what?” Sasuke asked, extracting himself from Itachi’s grip. There was a slight pout on his face at being kept out of whatever secret had Itachi so happy.

“A better world,” Itachi explained. “I’ll tell you one day soon.”

At that, a promise of being in on the secret, Sasuke’s faced morphed into a grin. “Okay, cool.” He threw his arms around Itachi for another hug. “Bye, Nii-san.”

“Bye, Sasuke,” Itachi’s words were warm.

Sasuke pulled away, the grin still in place, and waved as he ran off.

Itachi waved as well, feeling lighter than he had in months. The endless weight of the world had lifted. _Peace_ . . . it was so much closer.

He spent the morning in a state of barely contained excitement, allowing the iron grip on his emotions to loosen just a bit and let childish frivolity seep through. No one could see it, so he didn’t think it mattered much. It did mean that he was keyed up and over excited when Shisui stopped by briefly, to let him know he would be at the lake this afternoon training, and once Itachi had finished his meeting, they should meet up and celebrate together.

Itachi agreed to this quite readily, then spent the rest of his time sitting down and trying to calm himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so excited – especially not about a meeting.

_Not just any meeting_ , he reminded himself, with a touch of smugness and rare self-indulgence. The clan remaining allied with the Leaf would make the village that much stronger, and less likely to be attacked by anyone else. One step closer to peace.

Itachi’s plan was cut and dried, and to him, it was simple and crystal clear. And with a major victory staring him right in the face, he never imagined anything would disrupt his current path.

The afternoon rolled by without incident, and Itachi led his parents to the Hokage building. Danzo was waiting already, outside the room the council met in. He acknowledged them, and Fugaku returned the greeting.

“Follow me,” Danzo said, turning away from the council room. “Our meeting isn’t here.”

Danzo did not lead them to his usual office. He led them to the other room he often used – Itachi was used to getting mission orders here. It was a darker room, in the bowels of the building, concealed from everything that happened around them. There was an air of secrecy around it, and privacy. Once, it had made Itachi feel uncomfortable. Now, after many missions, it was just another room in the old Hokage building.

He supposed Danzo didn’t want them to be interrupted at all, which was why he chose such a secluded room.

“Itachi, you will wait outside,” Danzo said, pausing at the door.

It was with mild surprise that Itachi stuttered an answer, “I thought I was a part of the meeting as well.”

“It is not necessary for you to be here,” Danzo said. “I need you to rather keep watch and alert me should anyone come down to look for me. As you know, this is a delicate subject. I wouldn’t want any interruptions.”

Hesitant, Itachi looked to Fugaku for guidance. His father met his gaze stoically.

“It’s alright, Itachi,” Fugaku said. “We can manage without you. Do as you are told.”

He gave a short nod. “I will keep watch, Danzo-sama.”

Danzo nodded. “Good. I will call for you if I need you.” He opened the door, and stepped inside. Fugaku laid a hand briefly on Itachi’s shoulder as he went past, a gesture of comfort or pride, Itachi wasn’t sure which, and his mother smiled gently at him. Itachi smiled back, and once the door had closed, he took up position in front of it, stance relaxed but alert, and concentrated on the world around him. There was no presence nearby but his own, and the three muffled chakra signatures in the room behind him.

Itachi drew in a deep breath as he waited.

 

Shisui yawned, stretching his arms above his head and flopping onto his back on the smooth wood of the dock. The lake murmured, water rippling gently as the wind picked up for a moment, then settled, and the lapping water was quieted again.

Shisui closed his eyes, the afternoon sun warm on his face. He could fall asleep right there; after a satisfying day of rigorous training. Another yawn escaped him. He was looking forward to a good night’s sleep – finally, there would be no overhanging pressure from the clan, because Itachi was fixing that at this very moment. He was entertaining the idea of a quick nap - he supposed it wouldn’t do any harm - when he felt someone move and he sat up with an annoyed noise.

Who was interrupting his peaceful afternoon? _It better not be another mission_ ; he had been promised at least a few days off. He was almost standing, half way up and preparing to call out, when four masked shinobi appeared around him.

Shisui did not wait for explanations. His Sharingan flared.

 

Itachi heard the four shinobi walking down the stairs. He was not surprised; they were Danzo’s Foundation members, and were here often. He remained where he was, giving them a curt nod as they stepped into view.

“Itachi,” the one in the centre acknowledged him, his face covered by a white and blue cat-like mask.

“Danzo-sama is busy,” Itachi replied. “He cannot give you mission orders right now.”

“It’s fine. We already have our mission orders.”

“Then why are you still here?”

“Because our mission,” the cat-mask replied in a low tone, and Itachi felt his Sharingan flare almost against his will. “Is to kill you.”

 

Shisui spun, body righting itself naturally, and skidded upon the surface of the lake, sending water flying as he steadied himself with his chakra, kunai flying, and hands flashing through seals. A powerful fireball burst from him before he had stopped moving, and he felt someone behind him an instant later. He leapt aside, one hand pulling a kunai into his strong grip, and with a metallic clang he deflected the shuriken flying at him.

Several more came spinning from the other side, and he twisted to block those as well, changing their trajectory and sending most of them flying to the Foundation members behind him. He didn’t check it they hit their mark. He needed distance. He couldn’t fight four of them, boxed in and close. He flickered, hurtling recklessly towards the trees.

He knew this ground well, as well as he knew his own bedroom, and no one would overpower him on his own turf. The Foundation followed, getting too close too soon, and Shisui needed just one of them to cross his line of sight, just one, and the genjutsu was ready and waiting. They all closed in at once, expecting their numbers to give them the advantage. Shisui’s red eyes flashed.

 

Itachi’s sword finally found it’s mark, cutting into flesh, the curve of his swing just right, and blood sprayed violently from the cut artery.

Close quarters had never been his strength. In this confined space, with little room to evade, and huge areas blocked by the moving bodies of four – three - opponents, he was struggling to find an advantage. As the blood sprayed from one shinobi, his gurgled screams dying off, an arm snaked around Itachi’s throat, and there was a slick feel of a kunai blade sliding between his ribs.

In an instant, Itachi was gone, a mere puff of smoke, and the cat-mask cursed at being fooled. His next mistake was looking up, to find where Itachi had gone to, and involuntarily meeting blood red eyes. He fell within seconds.

Two down, two to go.

There was a maze of razor sharp wires around him, shuriken embedded into the walls, ceiling floors, and his Sharingan eyes had already shown him what he could and could not touch, but it still meant his movements were limited, he couldn’t swing his sword without putting himself in danger, and the final two shinobi refused to cross his line of vision.

For a few minutes, there nothing but the dull sound of flesh hitting flesh as the three of them grappled with taijutsu, Itachi’s eyes roaming desperately for some sort of opening, some way to get an advantage. The noise in the other room was distracting him, terrifying him, because he knew there was a fight going on in there too, he knew Danzo had cornered his parents and he needed to get in there, to help, to do _something_ -

He puffed away again, another shadow clone, but there were very few places to reappear, and the very instant he formed again there were shuriken flying at him. Even he wasn’t fast enough to dodge them all.

 

_Okay_ , Shisui thought grimly, breath rasping in his throat. _Okay, I’ve got this. I’ve got this._

His hands shook, exhaustion taking over, and he moved sluggishly through seals. His eyes were burning, chakra running low, and the effort of keeping moving was taking its toll. Another fireball burst from him, aimed at the shinobi relentlessly pursuing him. He knew they would dodge it, and he was ready, both hands full of kunai and flinging them where he knew they would appear.

Sure enough, there was the _thunk_ of metal piercing flesh, and a dull satisfaction from Shisui. He hit the ground hard, barely able to stay upright. He was only still for one second, but one second was enough. A kunai flew towards him, embedding into the base of his spine, and Shisui staggered one step, the pain overwhelming. A small tag on the kunai lit to life, and exploded, and it felt like every nerve in his body was electrocuted, his senses going haywire.

Shiusi’s legs buckled, he fell to his hands and knees; the world swam around him. He heard the Foundation shinobi approach.

_You’re going to have to do better than that_ , he thought. Despite the pain, wave after wave of it, and his shaking arms, he focused. His Sharingan swirled, the pattern changed, and Shisui felt the slight hesitation in his assailants. He gathered his focus, a single thought running through his mind

_Susanoo._

 

The fourth shinobi attacking Itachi was flung into the locked door with enough force to break it down. Itachi sped over him, swinging his sword once as he passed over, and the chakra signature his Sharingan had been watching snuffed out. He didn’t care – he had other things to focus on.

He burst into the room, blood flying from him – some of it his own – _too much_ his own -, and within an instant he had forced one shinobi away from his mother, a brutally launched kunai pinning him to the wall through his neck, and Itachi spun, sword arcing through the air and hitting another blade, stopping it mere inches from his father’s face.

There was a single still moment. Danzo stood un-phased behind his desk. There was blood licking the walls, one of the five Foundation members in the room lying prone and deadly still, another twitching and writhing on the floor, but clearly no longer a threat.

The one Itachi had just attacked sagged against the kunai, limp and steadily streaming blood. Itachi’s sword held another at bay, the shinobi behind it trembling against the hold. The last one came charging from Itachi’s other side, and he let go of the hilt with one hand, deft fingers pulling a kunai free in mere moments to bring it up to block another swinging blade.

Both his arms trembled with the effort of holding back two swords.

“I told you not to interfere, Itachi,” Danzo said, shaking his head in disapproval.

The final two Foundation members leapt back, and Itachi took up a more defensive stance in front of his parents, chest heaving. He didn’t dare look back to see if his mother or father were hurt. There would be time for that later. Now, he kept wary eyes on Danzo.

The old man looked out the smashed down door, and tutted. “I thought four of them would be enough to take you down. It seems even I underestimated you.”

Itachi tried to get his breathing under control. Panicking would not help, and he had lost enough blood already. His grip on his sword shook ever so slightly. It was enough for Danzo to notice.

“Put the weapon down.” He spoke slowly.

Itachi didn’t move.

“Put it down, Itachi. If you do, I’ll let you live. You’re a good shinobi.”

“You lied,” his voice trembled slightly, he didn’t know if that was exhaustion or panic. “You lied about _everything_.”

“Put the sword down,” Danzo repeatedly firmly. “I will not say it again.”

Once again, Itachi remained still. He flexed his grip slightly, keeping it tight and supple.

“If that sword is not on the floor in the next five seconds, I will send someone to kill your brother.” Danzo’s voice was impassive.

When Itachi hesitated, Danzo looked to the Foundation shinobi closest to the door. “Go.”

Itachi moved, just a flash, pure anger and protective need outweighing everything, and in the next instant Danzo was watching the head of that shinobi roll across the floor. He followed its progress with a narrow eye. With a sigh, he shook his head. “So be it, Itachi.”

The last Foundation shinobi moved, and Itachi snapped into a defensive posture. He realised his mistake just too late – the attack had not been aimed at him. And he wasn’t close enough to defend. The white tiger mask on the shinobi’s face was suddenly painted red, and both Fugaku and Mikoto buckled to the ground.

_No!_ He didn’t know if he yelled it aloud, and it didn’t matter, because his panic was deafening. He swung his sword, and it was halted by Danzo’s long, gnarled fingers closing over his wrist. His eyes snapped towards the old man, and in the moment they were both distracted, the tiger masked shinobi fell to the floor, screaming in agony and clawing at his skull, and then became chillingly still. Fugaku’s dark Sharingan was still blazing as he heaved himself into a sitting position, blood pooling around him.

Itachi tried to lunge towards him, but Danzo’s hold on his wrist was stronger than he anticipated. With a cruel twist of Danzo’s arm, Itachi heard something snap, loudly, and his arm was suddenly on fire, a devastating, burning pain.

“Itachi.” It was his father’s voice, sounding weak.

Danzo threw Itachi to the ground, and the boy collapsed with very little resistance, his whole body screaming agony at the sudden pain. His hand hung uselessly, sword dropped. The old man walked back to his desk, searching for something.

“Look at me, Itachi,” Fugaku said, and Itachi struggled through the haze of pain – the worst he had ever felt - to focus. Blurry eyes finally found his father, sitting up and looking drawn and pale. Mikoto leaned heavily against him, eyes dull and body faintly trembling. There was still blood widening around them, and Itachi wanted it to stop. “You’ll be fine, Itachi. You’ll be fine, no matter what happens.”

Itachi shook his head slowly. The movement caused another spasm of scorching pain through his arm.

Mikoto reached out a trembling hand to rest on Itachi’s cheek. Her thumb rubbed gently under his eye. It was shining bright and wet. “We love you, Itachi. Don’t ever forget that.”

“I’ll get help,” he said. “I’ll get help, and we-“

“Take care of Sasuke,” Fugaku said. “Be strong. And make your own path.”

“But I . . .”

Mikoto’s hand slipped to his shoulder, her strength failing.

“We couldn’t be prouder of you.”

Itachi drew in a deep breath, he had a lot to say, to protest, to promise. He never got the chance. He heard Danzo move, and in the next moment there was a kunai each buried in his parents’ necks. They slumped down with a soft thump, and Itachi’s eyes widened.

His shaking increased, and the shaking made his arm hurt even more. He stared. He couldn’t help it. He stared at their pale faces, set still and lifeless. And he flinched when Danzo laid a hand on his shoulder.

“You won’t say a word of this to anyone. Do you understand?”

Itachi could feel his heartbeat increase. It hammered in his chest, some sort of foreign feeling rising up. Anger, perhaps. Pure, burning, anger.

“This is your fault,” he said, words trembling. He tried to stand up, legs shaking. It took him several tries, one arm hanging uselessly at his side. “Everything is your fault.”

Danzo look at him calmly. “This was always your clan’s fault. They attacked the Leaf. They brought this on themselves.”

“It was always _you_ ,” Itachi growled. There was a tingle behind his eyes, a licking darkness he couldn’t explain.

“Don’t come any closer.” Danzo said stiffly. “You better not forget your place. I am still your superior.”

“All the corruption in this village, all the filth, all the scum, _it was all you_ ,” Itachi snarled, and the darkness was growing, building. He could feel it in his eyes. Something foreign and strong. Then the world changed, glowing blood red. He felt something slick in his eyes, and the dull roar behind them became a nail-biting screech.

Black flames erupted in his vision, and consumed Danzo. They wrapped around his body, and the old man screamed, a blood-curdling, high pitched sound that tore at Itachi’s ears. He flailed, and writhed, but the black flames did not abate. They rose as Itachi’s anger rose, they flickered and licked in time with his rapid heartbeat. And most importantly, they devoured Danzo.

Within seconds, there was nothing but a sooty patch on the floor, one or two tiny flames dying out slowly. Itachi’s vision cleared, the world no longer red, and he felt something streaming down his cheeks. His fingers tips came back red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pupeez4eva commented: I really hope Fugaku and Mikoto don't die because I really like the way you write them.
> 
> Spice: ............................................... My bad ............................ But I needed the Mangekyou somehow : /


	4. 3 - My Clan Now

For a moment, he stood still, then his eyes burned and a piercing pain spiked through his skull. With a muted wail, he fell to his knees again, one hand coming up to press against his closed eyes. The other hand twitched, broken and useless, and he could feel the blood still leaking out his eyes, running down his cheeks.

He needed help. He acknowledged that. He didn’t know how to get it; he could barely move – exhausted, and injured, and wracked with white hot pain. He couldn’t call, his throat felt raw. He staggered to his feet, eyes still closed, and stumbled blindly towards Danzo’s desk. If this was anything like the other high-profile rooms he’d been in, there would be a panic button. He felt with one hand, eyes screwed closed against the blood and the pain. His fingers hit a small button beneath the lip of the desk, and he pressed it.

He did not have to wait long.

He heard people charging down the stairs, and he sagged in relief. He recognised the footsteps at the front of the charge. In a second, he felt familiar hands on him, easing him to sit down.

“Itachi?” Kakashi’s voice was calm, but urgent. “What happened?”

He had to swallow before he could answer, voice thick with emotion – because what if Danzo had already sent someone else, what if that had been his plan all along -  “Is Sasuke safe?”

“He’s at the Academy, isn’t he?” Kakashi replied, sounding slightly confused. “Everything is fine there. There have been no reports of a disturbance.”

“I need to see him.”

“You need to explain what happened here.” Kakashi’s grip on Itachi’s shoulders tightened. “I’m taking you to the infirmary. Then we can talk.”

“Please find Sasuke.” Itachi spoke in a small voice.

“We will. Calm down.”

Itachi didn’t resist as Kakashi hoisted him up into his arms, but he did hiss in pain as his arm was jostled.

“We’re going to the hospital,” Kakashi repeated firmly, as though Itachi was in a position to refuse.

Despite keeping his eyes closed, Itachi kept track of every step Kakashi took, his whole body wired and on edge, and every step felt like a knife to the arm. He wanted Shisui – Shisui would know why his eyes were burning and crying blood.

“I need Shisui.” His voice sounded weak. His heart hurt.

“I will send for him,” Kakashi promised.

Itachi just nodded. He tried to relax, but his body was in agony. He lost track of their journey at some point, and only snapped back to attention when he was laid on a soft bed. He struggled slightly, unnerved at being temporarily blind, but Kakashi’s hand on his shoulder and his voice were familiar and soothing. “It’s okay, Itachi. We’re at the hospital.”

He relaxed slightly. There were more voices around him, but throughout everything Kakashi stayed firm at his side, and Itachi was grateful. Even though he was no longer under Kakashi’s team and guidance, the Copy Nin had remained a good friend and a steadying influence in trying times.

“Itachi. Can you hear me?” That was Kusushi’s voice. He was a medic ninja; Itachi didn’t know him very well, but he knew the voice.

“Yes.”

“We’re going to do emergency first aid, and just get you stabilised properly. Once we know the situation, we’ll proceed with general anaesthetic.”

Itachi tensed. “I need to be somewhere soon. I can’t . . . I can’t be operated on right now.” _I need to know where Sasuke is. And . . . And there’s a meeting . . ._

There was a pause. Itachi waited tensely for the medic to continue. “Alright. Emergency first aid now, then when you’re ready let me know, and we can proceed properly. But we can’t wait too long, this is a very bad break.”

He nodded, mind still swirling. He flinched at the feeling of a needle, but minutes after it, he felt the fiery pain in his arm receding, and he relaxed fractionally.

“Itachi,” Kakashi spoke again. “I’ll go find Sasuke and Shisui now. I’ll be right back, and then I need to know what happened.”

“Alright.” It seemed best to just agree. Itachi tried to pry his eyes open, they felt sticky with blood and burned when the light touched them. He closed them again, whole body shuddering at the sensation. He wasn’t sure how much time passed, he felt a bit dizzy for most of it. He knew the wounds on his body were inspected and cleaned. Eventually the blood stopped pouring from his eyes, and he was tentatively able to clean them, and blink cautiously in the bright hospital lights.

Kusushi sent healing chakra into his arm, splinted it straight and strapped it securely to Itachi’s chest so he wouldn’t jostle it too much.

“I’d prefer it if you stayed here,” Kusushi said, with a grim frown. “That arm looks bad, and you’re exhausted. You really need to rest; your chakra levels are incredibly low and you lost a lot of blood.”

“I have somewhere I need to be.” Itachi replied stubbornly.

“Then at the very least, let me give you something for the pain. Although I can’t guarantee you won’t go into shock if you insist on pushing yourself.”

Itachi was saved from having to answer by Kakashi’s return. The Copy Nin approached Itachi’s bedside, Kusushi left with a grumble, muttering about young upstarts. Itachi met Kakashi’s eyes boldly.

“Sasuke’s fine,” Kakashi said, taking a seat next to Itachi’s bed. “He’s with Iruka.”

“Has someone found Shisui?” Itachi asked. “I need to talk to him.”

“You can explain everything to me first.” Kakashi sounded patient.

“If it’s alright,” Itachi said. “I’d prefer to speak to the Hokage.” He had a lot to say, and he didn’t want to repeat it more than he had to. There was also a bigger problem here – the Uchiha clan meeting was due to start in a few hours, and Itachi needed to have his thoughts sorted by then.

“Maybe you should rest some more.”

“I need to get this done now.” Itachi explained.

“You’ve had . . . difficult things happen . . .” Kakashi said. “It’s okay to need to recover from that.”

“I will have time to mourn later,” Itachi said firmly. “Right now, I need to speak to the Hokage. I need to speak to my clan. I need to make sure my brother is safe, and I need to find Shisui.”

There was a tense pause between them.

“Okay,” Kakashi said. “I will go find Shisui, and get you to the Hokage.” He stood up. His single, visible eye narrowed. “Stay here for the moment.”

Itachi nodded, and once Kakashi left, he flopped back onto the pillows with a shuddering sigh. How had the day gone so wrong?

How had the world gone so wrong?

 

The Hokage sighed deeply. “So Danzo was behind all this. I had a feeling something like this might happen. I just never thought it would happen so soon. I would have taken action if I thought he was going to turn on the Uchiha like this.”

Itachi stayed still, on one knee, head bowed. His broken arm was still throbbing, but was strapped to his chest securely, and he’d been plied full of painkillers, and at least had a clear head. “I’m sorry I couldn’t prevent it.”

“I must apologize to you,” the Hokage bowed his head slightly, leaning back in his chair. “If I had been more perceptive, this would not have happened. I deeply regret what happened to your parents.”

Itachi nodded a little, unable to do more than that.

“He was using the Foundation for his own means,” Hokage continued, and it irked Itachi that he was just repeating what the boy had already told him. “A pity. We were good friends.”

Itachi didn’t care. “Excuse me, Hokage-sama, but I have something I need to say.”

“Go ahead.”

Itachi looked up, tentatively. “There is a clan meeting tonight that my . . .” He faltered slightly. “That my father was meant to be at. He was going to tell the clan that we . . . were allied with the Leaf and there would be no coup. No bloodshed.” His voice trembled. “I need to be at that meeting. I need to explain what has happened.”

The Hokage studied him. “And after what happened today, do you think your clan will believe you? Will they believe that this village wishes them no harm or ill intent? Will they believe it was only Danzo responsible for the tragedy today? Or will they immediately revolt against the village for what has been done?”

Those very questions had been on Itachi’s mind as well. He hesitated before speaking. “I will make sure they do not attack the Leaf. Shisui will help me.” _Wherever he is._

“I would like to go with you to this meeting.”

“What?” Itachi was surprised. The clan was restless, and volatile. The Hokage’s presence could mean nothing but unrest. “I don’t think . . .”

“I would like to speak to your clan as well. I owe them several apologies.”

“With all due respect, Hokage-sama,” Itachi bowed low, supressing a wince as the movement knocked his arm. “I do not think this meeting is a good place for you.”

“I understand,” Hiruzen said kindly. “Would you be up for a meeting tomorrow evening? With as many of your clans’ people as you chose. I would like to put Danzo’s appalling actions behind us.”

“Tomorrow is fine,” Itachi murmured. He had a feeling he would prefer to be kept busy.

“Tomorrow is it, then.” The Hokage nodded. “You may get up, Itachi. If you have nothing more to say right now, you may go.”

“Thank you.” Itachi got to his feet, head spinning a bit, and bowed once more in a show of respect.

The moment he was outside the Hokage’s chamber, Kakashi was there at his side.

“You look like you’re going to collapse any moment now.”

“I’ll be fine,” Itachi replied stubbornly. “I have to be at this meeting.”

“You should be at the hospital.”

“I’ve had emergency first aid, it’s enough for now. And Sasuke . . .”

“He’s staying with Iruka and another chuunin for the night.”

Itachi looked startled. “But-“

“We’ve told him that there’s been a problem, and no one was able to come to him right now. Iruka won’t tell him exactly what happened, but he’s safe. You don’t need to worry about him. Take a moment for yourself.”

“What about Shisui?”

“No one has found him yet.”

“Did you check by the waterfall? What about the lake? He likes it there.”

“I’ve had people looking for hours,” Kakashi said. “We will find him.”

There was a knot of unease in Itachi’s stomach, because it was unlike his best friend to disappear without warning.

“There’s also a few members of the Foundation missing,” Kakashi said. “Do you know how many there are in total?”

“Thirteen.” _What if the others went after Shisui?_ Itachi thought in horror. “Kakashi-san, what if Shisui’s hurt?”

“I will find him.” Kakashi promised. “Go to your meeting – if you can even stand up for that long – and I promise, by the time you come back to the hospital for the night, he will be there.”

“Alright . . .” Itachi nodded. He had to accept that. Sasuke was safe, and Kakashi was completely trustworthy. He just needed to take life one thing at a time right now. The world was terrifyingly surreal, Itachi felt like he was swimming rather than walking. He supposed it might be shock. He would analyse his own feelings later – for now, he was needed.

He had a clan to lead.

 

Pakkun sniffed at the ground near the lake. “Those Foundation ninja you lost were here too.”

“I didn’t lose them,” Kakashi said mildly. “Just track Shisui before Itachi gets his panties twisted any tighter.” Working close to the boy for years had taught Kakashi a thing or two – namely that Itachi could get very, very anxious and he was certain it wasn’t healthy.

Given the day the poor boy had had, Kakashi didn’t want to add to his stress.

Pakkun nodded and trotted off, breaking into a run, then leaping for the trees. Kakashi followed. They travelled for a few minutes before landing on the forest floor, four shinobi scattered around them, prone and unresponsive.

Pakkun sniffed each one. “Two are dead. Two are still alive.”

There was a thin trail of blood on the ground, leading away and deeper into the forest. It looked like it had been dragged. Kakashi followed it, cautious but swift, and within a few more minutes he spotted Shisui.

The young ninja was lying face down, his dark shirt soaked in blood. He flinched as Kakashi approach, grappling weakly for a kunai. When Kakashi crouched down beside him, Shisui’s drawn face relaxed into a smile.

“Itachi sent me to find you,” Kakashi said blandly. “He seemed to think you’d gotten into trouble.”

“When do I ever get into trouble?” Shisui grinned. There was barely concealed pain behind his expression. “You can tell Itachi I was on my way to him. It’s just kinda slow progress since I can’t walk.”

“I see.” Kakashi eyed him. Whatever damage his body had sustained looked serious.

“Kakashi?” Shisui’s voice was small, flickering fear.

“Yes?”

“I can’t feel my legs.”

“Hm.” He laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder, trying not to let his own worry show on his face. “Let’s get you home then.”

 

The room fell utterly silent as Itachi entered and made his way to the front of the clan. There were one or two whispers, which he ignored. He was ready for anger – the clan would be furious. Outraged. But it was now his duty to make sure they pointed their rage away from the village – which meant it would most likely be directed at him.

He was ready for that.

Another whisper started, and Itachi took a deep breath. He figured a direct route was the most effective. “The coup has been cancelled.”

There was a brief, collective silence. Then the voices rose up, angry shouts echoing around the room.

“The coup is scheduled to go ahead in mere days!”

“What kind of joke is this?”

“Who are you to even suggest-“

“I am the new Head of this clan,” Itachi said calmly. He didn’t know if anyone heard him over the sound of the uproar, but they must have, because everyone fell silent again. He took another deep breath. “Today, my parents and I had a meeting with the council about the Uchiha’s place in the village. About the issues we have and how they can be resolved. The reason we have been cornered, and persecuted, was the will of Shimura Danzo. He alone acted to shun our clan, and he alone is suspicious of our involvement in the Nine Tales’ attack.”

The crowd rippled, but did not interrupt.

“As you know, I have been working closely with Danzo and his Foundation. This is how I was able to discover that he was responsible for all you have been feeling. And I do not feel like the entire village should be punished for the abhorrent actions of one man. However,” he tried not to let his voice break. “Danzo attacked us during negotiations. My parents . . .” He hesitated. His eyes burned slightly. “My parents were killed.”

He took the ensuing uproar to compose himself, taking in several deep breaths and trying to calm his nerves. Getting upset wouldn’t help him now. He still had work to do. He held up his good hand, and an uneasy silence fell again.

“Before anyone suggests an attack of revenge,” he said, closing his eyes briefly. “Danzo is dead. By my hand. The Hokage has lifted all restrictions on us. I have another meeting with him tomorrow, and I would like several of you there with me. I need the extra ears, and I want things to be smoothed over with the Leaf and its government.”

“This is preposterous!” Yashiro stood up. Itachi groaned internally. Yashiro was opinionated and violent; if anyone was going to cause trouble it would definitely be him. “We will not stand for this. Who are you to walk in here and tell us what to do?”

“I am Uchiha Itachi,” he answered calmly. “Uchiha Fugaku’s eldest son, and the heir to this clan. The need for the coup has been destroyed, and so there will not be one. This isn’t easy for me. The clan might have suffered the loss of a great leader but I have suffered the loss of a father. I am not taking any of this lightly. But there is a bigger picture here.”

“This is Fugaku’s clan,” Yashiro shouted. “And he-“

“ _This is my clan now_ ,” Itachi snarled, and the level of his anger even surprised him. “And while you carry _my_ _name_ , you will not turn against this village. They owe you nothing, you have no debt to be repaid, no blood to be repaid. You owe this village only your service as a shinobi, and your loyalty.”

“This is not your clan, yet, Itachi,” Yashiro snapped. “You are a mere child, you do not have sufficient judgement to lead a clan.”

“Sufficient judgement?” Itachi echoed darkly. “ _Sufficient judgement_ is a prerequisite to captaining an Anbu team – something I’m sure you’re aware that I do. If I have been deemed by several authorities sufficient in judgement to lead a team of Konoha’s most elite and highly trained ninja, then I can certainly lead my clan – with my father’s skills and blessing,” he spat the last few words, blood boiling.

“This is _my clan_ ,” Itachi continued in a low voice, ignoring a dark murmur across the room. “It will not turn on its village. And no one within it will go against what I order.” He needed to keep a tight lid on the clan for a while, until animosity died down, and suspicions faded. He didn’t care if he sounded unreasonable right now – he was doing what was right.

“You are not fit to rule us,” Yashiro said stiffly, for lack of a better argument.

“Then lodge a complaint with the Hokage,” Itachi replied. “And get in injunction against me. Until then,” his eyes narrowed, “You will make no move against our village.”

His eyes glinted red, a warning.

Yashiro glowered at him, but said nothing more.

“That is all for now,” Itachi said, struggling to keep his own anger, and various other swirling emotions, in check. “I will be calling for another clan meeting soon. And tomorrow, several of you will join me with the Hokage to discuss the path forward for this clan and this village.” _My village_. He wanted to add it, feeling possessive, but he kept the thought to himself. “I will inform you tomorrow as to who I want present.”

He didn’t ask if there were any questions, because he didn’t care. He didn’t want the questions. He wanted to sit down and cry his eyes out, but that wasn’t allowed to happen. He wanted to crawl into bed and remain there until his heart stopped aching, but that wasn’t an option.

So instead he walked silently from the room, jaw set and head held high, the perfect picture of what he now needed to be – a leader, strong and indomitable and without weakness.

In the privacy of the dark night outside, Itachi wanted to collapse. He couldn’t take much more. His chest felt tight, breaths coming fast and shallow.

_Don’t panic_ , he thought. _Get to the hospital. Get help._

It was an effort; his body was battered and tired, and the day had drained him of everything. But he had to see if Kakashi had fulfilled his promise.

By the time he had dragged his weary body to the hospital, Kakashi was there waiting for him. And caught him when he nearly collapsed.

“Since I know you’re still worrying,” Kakashi said, half dragging the boy inside. “Sasuke is still fine. Iruka says he’s gone to sleep. You can fetch him from school any time tomorrow.”

“Shisui?”

“He’s . . . here . . .”

At Kakashi’s hesitant answer, Itachi stared at him. Whatever colour remained on his pallid skin drained away.

“He’s been hurt, Itachi,” Kakashi said. “Badly.”

“Oh, god,” he groaned. “Kakashi . . .”

“I don’t know the extent of the damage. He just said-“

“He said? Then he’s conscious, how can you not know the extent of the damage?” Itachi fought free of Kakashi’s supportive hold. He glared, anger warring against abject fear.

Kakashi gazed at him calmly. There seemed no point in sugar coating, and Itachi didn’t look like he was the mood for being prepared for another blow to the gut. “His back has been injured. He can’t walk. Might never walk again.”

Itachi felt the room spinning, but it felt hideously far away, and all the sounds and sights around him felt muted. There was a rushing sensation, which he couldn’t do anything about, and then he felt Kakashi gripping him firmly as his legs buckled.

“Probably should have told you to sit down,” Kakashi muttered. “Come on, let’s get that arm seen to properly.”

“But Shisui . . .”

“He’s got the best medic shinobi with him right now, they’re doing what they can. You, on the other hand, seem to have forgotten you’ve been injured as well.”

That may have been because he hadn’t had a moment to think all day, but he didn’t say it aloud. Kakashi was right though, despite the number of painkillers he’d taken, he could still feel his arm throbbing, and he’d lost a fair amount of blood during the day. His own needs had been the very last thing on his mind though, and slowing down, letting the day catch up, he was suddenly reminded that he had lost his parents.

Had watched them die right in front of him, and had been unable to do anything. He’d watched them bleed out within his reach, and hadn’t changed it. And now they were gone, snatched away, and he had the world resting on his shoulders, and they were never coming back.

“They’re not coming back,” he croaked out, leaning more heavily against Kakashi as the Copy Nin hauled him further into the hospital. He barely noticed the people swarming around him, his mind was focused only on one thing – he had lost most of his family.

The pain in his arm didn’t seem nearly as bad as the sudden pain rending his chest. It felt like a knife blade, cold and grating, and his whole body shuddered, suddenly feeling frozen. He started shaking violently.

“Now what?” Kakashi sounded resigned.

It was Kusushi who answered. The medic took him easily from Kakashi’s hold. “He’s probably going into shock. It’s okay, I’ve got him. We’ve had a few visits before, I know how to deal with him.”

Kakashi sighed. “Not surprised.”

“I’ll give him something now and get him sleeping. We need to set his arm properly anyway.”

“Shisui . . .” Itachi protested weakly, feeling like the world was running away without him.

“You can see him when you’re feeling better,” Kusushi promised. “You have wounds that need to be seen to again, and a broken bone that needs to be set properly. Once we’re done with that, I will take you to Shisui, okay?”

Itachi nodded sluggishly. He stared blankly forward, towards the doors Kusushi was half dragging him to. He didn’t know what lay beyond them, and it felt like they were the start of a new life. He had no idea what tomorrow held for him either. He had no idea what he was supposed to do with his life now.

Sasuke needed him to be strong.

But right now, he didn’t know if he would be able to be. With so many of his pillars of strength knocked out from under him, he was terrified he would crumble to dust.


	5. 4 - A Little Bit of Peace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Politics are not my thing, so this is not the best written chapter . . .

Itachi opened his eyes to find the sun only just rising, warm rays peeking into the hospital. He lay still for a few moments, taking stock of where he was and how he felt. His arm was no longer aching, but it was bandaged securely and fastened against his chest. He felt slightly numb; he assumed it was residual effects of almost suicidal levels of painkillers the night before.

He had to face the day. There was one task that made his stomach churn nauseatingly.

He had to tell Sasuke their parents were dead.

 _Oh, god_ , he laid his good arm over his eyes. _How am I supposed to tell him something like that?_

The mere thought filled him to the brim with sick dread. He forced himself to get up, running his hand through his sweaty hair to tame it into something resembling its normal style, and stood up uncertainly. There was a dull ache throughout every muscle in his body, but he chose to ignore it in favour of easing his chakra out to find Shisui.

Within seconds, there was a familiar flare of chakra back, a clear answer – Shisui felt him, and was calling him. Itachi followed the feeling, moving surely throughout the hospital until he reached the door Shisui’s chakra was hiding behind. He hesitated then, and he didn’t know why. Maybe because Shisui was badly hurt, and he didn’t know what to think about that.

He pushed the door open, almost holding his breath, unsure what to expect, but Shisui was already smiling at him, lying propped up on pillows and looking like he’d been awake for hours already. Itachi didn’t even know what time it was. He crossed the room, coming to stand close to Shisui’s bedside.

“Hey,” Itachi said softly. “How are you feeling?”

“Not as much as I should be,” Shisui said ruefully. His smile brightened though, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Inabi came to visit me early this morning. Isn’t that nice of him?”

“What did he say?” Itachi asked nervously.

“He called you a prickly little upstart with no respect for your elders. And a few other things.” Shisui grinned.

“It would have gone better if you’d been there,” Itachi said dully.

“If I’d been there,” Shisui said, “I would have slow clapped your speech. It sounds like you had everything under control. Just like always.”

“Is it true?” Itachi asked suddenly, flicking his eyes away from Shisui. “That you . . . can’t walk . . .?”

“Well, yeah, for now,” Shisui shrugged. “But that won’t last long. I promise.”

Itachi just stared at him, a pained expression on his face. He couldn’t imagine it – lively, flickering Shisui suddenly still. The very best amongst them, cut down. The mere thought made his chest ache again, a sharp hurt around his heart, and he didn’t want anything to be true right now. He longed for a comfort of a dream.

The glint in Shisui’s eyes faded. “I know this is a hard day for you. And I’m so sorry I can’t be there to help you through it. But you’re strong, you can get through it.”

“I’m going to fetch Sasuke from school now,” Itachi admitted. “I’m terrified. I don’t know what to say to him.”

“It’ll be okay,” Shisui said, taking one of Itachi’s hands in his own and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “If you can take on the clan, you can face Sasuke.”

Itachi did not look convinced.

“He needs you,” Shisui said. “He just needs you to be there for him. That’s all. Nothing you can’t handle. And the moment I can – the very moment – I will be right there with you. For you both.”

Itachi nodded.

Shisui gave Itachi’s hand another squeeze. “I’ll be right here.”

_Because you can’t go anywhere else . . ._

Shisui wished he could ease some of his own strength into Itachi, but he settled instead for just looking at him, his dark eyes hopefully conveying whatever help they could. Itachi took his hand back, and turned away.

He did not want to go to the Academy. He didn’t know if he was able to face Sasuke. The day had already been hard, following the hardest day of his life. But he made himself, because he had to.

Iruka was waiting outside the classroom, and he smiled gently when he saw Itachi approach.

“How are you doing?”

“Not well.” Itachi was not scared to admit the truth. He glanced at the closed door. “Sasuke . . .?”

“We had to tell him,” Iruka said, looking apologetic. “He kept asking questions, and we couldn’t lie. He’s been waiting for you.”

Itachi nodded. “Thank you for taking care of him last night.”

“Any time,” Iruka brushed off the thanks. He started to leave, to give the brothers some much wanted privacy. Before he left, he laid a gentle hand on Itachi’s shoulder. “You know that you can talk to me at any time, alright?”

“Thank you,” Itachi replied. He knew he never would, he was too stubbornly proud for that. But maybe Sasuke would like the thought. And Itachi still appreciated the gesture. He felt a lump in his throat as he reached for the door. His stomach twisted knots. _Gods, Sasuke, I’m so sorry._

He pushed the door open softly.

Sasuke’s eyes immediately snapped to his. The boy was sitting with his hands in his lap, one tiny child alone in an empty room. His lip trembled, and as Itachi looked at him, Sasuke’s big eyes welled with tears.

“I’m sorry,” Itachi breathed, because he should have been able to do something. He should have been able to prevent it. He should have been able to change it.

Sasuke got up onto wobbly legs. He crossed the room with surprising swiftness, barrelling into his brother. His little body shook, and Itachi knelt down to better hold him. He winced as Sasuke’s vice grip pressed his injured arm a bit too tightly against his chest, but the pain didn’t matter. It was secondary to the emotional hurt, anyway.

“It’s not true, is it?” Sasuke mumbled. “It’s not. They’re lying to us. Mom and Dad are fine, right?”

He breathed out, a shuddering sound. “No, Sasuke. No one is lying.”

“But you were _there_ , they said you were there. And you’re the greatest ninja ever, you would never, ever let anything happen to Mom and Dad.” His words were watery. Itachi felt like they were drowning him.

“I’m so sorry, Sasuke,” Itachi whispered. He swallowed the lump in his throat. It didn’t go away. “I’m sorry.”

_I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough. I failed you. I failed everyone. I wanted to give you a world of peace . . . not a world in pieces._

 

Neither of them spoke a word as they entered the house. Sasuke dumped his school bag by his shoes, and wandered silently towards his room.

“Do you . . . are you hungry?” Itachi asked, feeling uncertain. “Do you want me to make you something?”

Sasuke shook his head. He didn’t look back, just walked away into the house.

Itachi didn’t think he’d ever felt so lost. He stood in the doorway for a while, not thinking, barely breathing. It was too quiet. Too . . . dead.

He wanted something to happen. He wanted some noise. He wanted to hear his mother in the kitchen, or his father murmuring in his study, forever in meetings and having discussions. But there was silence.

He wandered into the kitchen, idly walking around, uncertain of what to do with himself. He had a few hours before his meeting with the Hokage and some of the clan members. He didn’t want to leave Sasuke for that. He didn’t want to let Sasuke out of his sight, ever again.

He sat down at the kitchen table, facing the open doorway into the garden. It was sunny, and it shouldn’t be. It should have been raining. He felt cheated, as though the rest of the world was happily spinning, and only his little world had been thrown into a dark turmoil, an irreversible horror that he didn’t know how to process.

Restless, he got up again, going to Sasuke’s room and knocking gently on the door. There was no answer from inside, and Itachi pushed the door open. He could see Sasuke lying on his bed, face in the pillow and little body shuddering occasionally. Silently, Itachi crossed the room, and sat down on the edge of the bed.

In a surprising show of speed, Sasuke detached himself from his pillow and onto Itachi’s waist, hiding his face away and gripping tight. Itachi laid his good arm over his brother’s back. He could feel a damp spot starting on his clothes where Sasuke was pressed against him, and he wanted to cry as well. He wanted someone to hold him, and hide him away from the world. He wanted to be allowed to be a child, just like Sasuke.

But he couldn’t be. He couldn’t be a child, he couldn’t be weak, he couldn’t be what he wanted to be. He had a lot of things he needed to be – Anbu, shinobi, genius, clan head – but he wasn’t allowed to be the things he wanted.

 

Sasuke fell asleep a few hours later, exhausted by grief and tragedy, and Itachi left for his meeting early. He needed to make a stop before it, because he didn’t think he was going to hold himself together for much longer. He could not afford to come undone in the middle of a meeting with the Hokage, and he certainly couldn’t afford to let his clan see him vulnerable, effected by mere emotions, even though it wasn’t his fault he was feeling this way – because he felt like he was allowed to be upset about the loss of both parents.

There was one other person who he could be himself with, and he went purposefully towards the hospital.

Shisui brightened up when he saw him, a toothy smile on his face. “Hey, bestie, I wondered if you’d have time for me today.”

Itachi said nothing. He checked the door to the room was closed, locked, and crossed the room with swift steps, coming to a halt beside Shisui’s bed with his face pale and expression downcast. The smile on Shisui’s face vanished. He looked searchingly at the young Anbu, wondering how many emotions lay hidden in those dark and brooding eyes.

“Hey,” he said softly. “It’s okay. It’s just us here. It’s just me.”

“I know,” Itachi said with a shuddering breath. “But everything . . .”

“Come here,” Shisui said, holding out both arms. “You’ve spent enough time on your own, keeping everything inside. You don’t get to do that with me. Just put aside that malignant martyr complex of yours for a few seconds.”

Itachi edged forward, hesitant. Showing emotion was not allowed, but with Shisui it had always been different. Only now, Itachi was terrified if he let just a little of what he was feeling out, he wouldn’t be able to stop. But Shisui wasn’t going to take no for an answer, and Itachi climbed up next to him, his resolve to remain strong suddenly crumbling.

He leaned into Shisui’s shoulder, the familiarity of the gesture was one of the most soothing things he’d ever experienced. And Shisui didn’t say anything, didn’t ask questions or encourage Itachi to talk. He just put his arms around him, with a grip firm enough to comfort but loose enough not to trap, and rested his cheek against Itachi’s head.

He said nothing about Itachi’s unsteady breathing and the shuddering hitch that caught in his throat a few times. One hand pulled gently through Itachi’s long hair, but they remained completely silent.

Shisui’s heart beat was soothing. It was calm, and steady, and Itachi found himself focusing on it, listening to it, while Shisui’s chakra buzzed gently under his skin, brushing up against Itachi’s own, and it was so familiar and comfortable, as though the whole world existed only here – in a suspended moment of peace, of frozen time. A moment Itachi wanted to last forever.

But it couldn’t, and he needed to get his mind ready for the meeting.

He sat up, pulling out of Shisui’s hold, looking imploringly at the older boy with slightly red-rimmed eyes and a pathetic expression on his face.

Shisui offered him a small smile, eyes warm. “You’ll be okay.”

“But will you?” A flicker of unease went across Itachi’s face.

Shisui’s smile faded. “I don’t know. No one knows yet.” He sighed. “The doctor’s said they’ll probably send me home for about a week, maybe two, until the swelling around my spine has gone down a bit. Then they’ll know more, but until then,” he shrugged helplessly. “They say they don’t know if I’ll ever get better.”

They sat still, Shisui’s words hanging heavy around them.

“Of course, I’ll need to find someone to stay with me,” Shisui said, now frowning. “I mean, I can’t do anything on my own, really, but I’m sure I’ll-“

“Come home with me,” Itachi said instantly.

Shisui blinked. “What?”

“Please. The house is so quiet.” The silence hurt. It was just so wrong.

“But you’re so busy, you don’t want me there being in the way all the time-“

“Shisui,” Itachi interrupted, dark eyes earnest. “I don’t want to be alone all the time. I want you there. Please. It won’t be quiet when you’re there.”

“Okay.” It seemed best to just agree, especially when Itachi looked so agitated. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

“One condition, though,” Shisui said. Itachi looked at him hopefully. “If I’m getting in the way, or interfering with anything, kick me out. Okay?”

Itachi nodded. “Alright.”

Truth be told, he didn’t care if Shisui was causing a problem. The house was too silent, Sasuke was sullen and didn’t want to talk much, and Itachi was just drowning in all that he had in life. He needed something positive, and Shisui had always been the most positive thing in his life.

“Any other news on your recovery?” Itachi asked.

Shisui shrugged again. “They’re calling in some awesome medical ninja from Mist. He’s apparently fixed things like this before, but they’re not sure . . .” He trailed off.

Itachi looked at him. “Are you scared? That maybe it won’t work?”

Shisui bit his lip. He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m terrified.”

The prospect of never walking again was his one and only fear right now. What would he do with himself? Would there even be any point in existing? How does one deal with life, when the thing they had spent their whole life being was suddenly snatched away from them? He didn’t say anything to Itachi; he looked like he was dealing with enough stress without Shisui piling on.

“I’ll come home to you in a few days,” he promised instead. “And everything will be fine.”

 _No, it won’t. It stopped being fine yesterday_. Itachi just looked at him, downcast and expressionless.

“Itachi . . .”

“I should go. I have a meeting.”

Shisui closed his mouth, stopping himself from adding anything. Itachi clearly wanted to gather his focus, and compose himself, and Shisui was not going to help with that – very much the opposite, in fact. He nodded instead. “Good luck.”

Itachi didn’t reply. He flicked his eyes to Shisui’s once, and there was so much in them, Shisui wanted to reach out and pull those tortured emotions from him and throw them away. But Itachi was gone before he could even figure out how to do that, and Shisui lay back against the pillows with a sigh.

There would be time to coddle and heal Itachi later. For now, the young genius had things to do.

 

Itachi paused outside the door to the meeting room. He felt nervous. Maybe he’d used up all his courage the night before, at the clan meeting. Maybe he had reached his emotional limit. Either way, he had a job to do, so he couldn’t dwell on it. Summoning his courage, he pushed the door open, entering quietly.

The Hokage sat at the head of the table, with a scattering of Uchiha seated around – including Yashiro, because Itachi wanted him to witness the Hokage’s speech first hand. Itachi took his seat wordlessly, at the corner closest to Hiruzen.

The old man offered him a small, encouraging smile. “Thank you for joining us, Itachi. Now we can begin.”

Itachi avoided eye contact with any of the men there. He already knew they were glaring at him.

“First off,” Hiruzen began solemnly, “I would like to extend my condolences for the loss of Fugaku and Mikoto. I was unaware that Danzo had something like that planned, and I assure you, that had I known, I would have done something about it.”

There was a derisive snort from the direction Yashrio was sitting in.

“Danzo’s actions have been regrettable. Very much so. I can imagine you are all feeling rather persecuted right now – and I can’t say it isn’t true, because I can see now that Danzo was singling your clan out, and did have a strong prejudice against you. I know that my words must be a hollow comfort, if any at all, but I am sincere when I offer my deepest apologies, on behalf of the Leaf, for what has happened so far.” He looked to Itachi as he finished speaking, and Itachi chanced a small glance towards him, a silent acknowledgement.

It was a well-chosen speech, and Itachi knew the Hokage was a good diplomat when needed, and keen to use words to defuse situations. It remained to be seen if words would be enough – the clan had been ready to move forward with the coup, and might not be dissuaded with mere apologies. There was also a sense of guilt sitting with him, because maybe if the council had not known the Uchiha were planning to revolt, Danzo would never have felt the need to step in so drastically. Maybe he would still have his parents, if he hadn’t told the council what had been going on within the clan . . .

“We were aware that the Uchiha clan planned to launch a coup d’état against the Hidden Leaf Village,” Hiruzen said, and Itachi almost flinched when every Uchiha swivelled their heads to level dark glares in his direction. “One thing you will have noticed is that we did not launch a pre-emptive counter attack.”

“You were just a filthy little spy, weren’t you?” Yashiro hissed, dark eyes on Itachi.

Itachi met his gaze, unmoving, head still held high.

“Itachi only did what was asked of him,” Hiruzen said. “He was loyal to everyone – his village and his clan. The reason we are meeting here is to discuss a way forward that we can all agree on, and put all of this unrest behind us.”

It looked like Yashiro was going to speak again, so Itachi cut him off. “The complaints the clan has made against the Leaf have all been heard. As for the main one – our implication in the Nine Tales’ attack – it has been determined that we are not to blame.”

Hiruzen nodded. “Itachi is correct. The suspicion about the Uchiha’s involvement during the attack has been proven false.”

That had been thanks to Shisui’s endless research, and planning, and the occasional well-placed genjutsu. Shisui had always been good at getting the truth from people. Itachi glowered at Yashiro, almost daring him to protest. This was a point in their favour, didn’t he understand?

“Another complaint from the Uchiha clan was the feeling of being persecuted by the village – that you had been gathered into one place because of suspicion.” Hiruzen paused. “I cannot say this is untrue, but since there is no reason to suspect any ill intent towards the village now, I would like to propose that any Uchiha wishing to move out of the compound may do so without interference. Similarly, the Konoha Police Force will no longer be confined to only Uchiha members. Any shinobi may apply, and will be considered on merit alone.”

“The Konoha Police Force and the Anbu have often clashed in the past,” Itachi continued. “Rules regarding arrest warrants and shinobi ranks are going to be re-written. We are also going to instate an Anbu member into the Police Force as a go-between, who can monitor the relationship between both organizations.”

There was nothing but stony silence from the Uchiha present. Itachi decided to carry on, regardless. “I know this is a lot of change rather suddenly, but I think it will be a simple enough change to implement. There are a few new documents that need to be drawn up. I haven’t done them yet,” he hesitated, because the reason he hadn’t done them was because he had been knocked out on painkillers all night. It didn’t seem unreasonable to have not completed them, especially considering how little time had passed, but he still felt like he had failed. “We also . . . we also need a new Head of Police.”

“Was there really nothing you could do to prevent Fugaku’s death?” Inabi asked darkly. The implication was not pleasant. “If Danzo was as corrupt as you said he was, shouldn’t you have seen it coming? Why weren’t you ready?”

Itachi couldn’t answer that. The truth was – he felt like he _should_ have known. He sent an uncertain glance towards the Hokage, wondering what his next words should be. “I . . . I tried. I . . . I didn’t think there would be an attack. I didn’t think Danzo would do that.”

“We lost our clan head because you ‘weren’t ready’,” Yashiro’s voice sounded mocking. “You’ve been spending months digging through the trash of Konoha and you, with your eyes and your genius, couldn’t see this coming? Whose fault is it, really?”

 _It was mine_. “I had no reason to suspect Danzo would launch an attack against us-“ No _reason_ , but plenty of instinct and suspicion.

“But why not? You know our clan was singled out, you knew we were being persecuted, and you still didn’t believe there was any danger? How did _you_ miss a trap like that?”

He had no defence. “I was outnumbered.”

“Wasn’t the first time for that, though, was it?” Inabi sneered. “How many times have you been outnumbered in a mission? Why was it _this time_ that you couldn’t manage?”

He couldn’t answer. There was no reason. He felt like he should have done better. He should have fixed everything. He should have saved his parents. His eyes burned again, the newly acquired power within them reacting to his turmoil.

“That’s enough,” Hiruzen said firmly. “Itachi did what he could.”

 _And it wasn’t enough_. He took a deep breath. “I made a mistake. I didn’t predict Danzo’s intentions appropriately. But I will not allow my parents’ deaths to become meaningless. They both wanted an understanding between our clan and the Leaf. And now that the decision is in my hands, I will do what they would have wanted. There will no longer be a rift between us. I can only take us forwards.”

He had to pause there for a moment, to swallow hard and get his thoughts back on track, and Hiruzen sent him a gentle, encouraging look. Taking in another deep breath, Itachi squared his shoulders. “I want to name Inabi and Tekka as joint Head of Police.”

No one looked too surprised at that. Inabi had worked closely with Fugaku for years, and Tekka was sane, level-headed, and had always been a reliable shinobi. With a weary nod, Itachi asked, “Are there any questions?”

“Yes.” Yashiro, obviously. “Why should we just accept all this? Why does your word supersede ours?”

“Because,” Itachi said, feeling like he was drowning again. “I am the Head of this clan. I have been working with the Hokage to come to these decisions. These solutions were also solutions my father believed in and hoped for, and we had discussed them many times before. I will carry on his will wherever I can. I may be young, but I am not inexperienced.”

“Or you’re afraid to fight for this clan,” Yashiro growled. “You just want to roll over and take whichever path is easiest.”

“I have made the best decisions I know how to make,” Itachi said firmly. “All I ask is you give it a chance. If, in several weeks, you are dissatisfied with my path and my decisions, let me know. You know exactly where to find me.”

Yashiro snorted derisively.

The Hokage dismissed the meeting, and everyone but him and Itachi rose up and left the room.

Itachi wanted to bash his face against the table.

“You’re doing fine,” Hiruzen said kindly. “They will take a while to get over their bloodlust.”

It was only his dignity that stopped Itachi from faceplanting onto the smooth wood with a groan. Instead, he slumped in his seat, feeling exhausted.

“Politics can be more frightening than the most dangerous Anbu mission,” Hiruzen chuckled. He stood up. “You will learn to deal with it. But now, go home, please. Take all the time you need.”

“I’ll get those documents to you by the end of the day,” Itachi said, rubbing a tired hand across his face.

“The council will take care of that. Go home, spend time with your brother. You need a rest, and you deserve it. The last twenty-four hours have been incredibly difficult for you.”

Was that all it was? It felt like this agony had stretched on for days. But he nodded politely, gathering himself and preparing to leave. He had nowhere to go but home.

Silent, dark, empty home.

Home felt like his heart.

 

Itachi had been sitting at the kitchen table a few days later, staring blankly into space, when he heard the knock at the door. He wondered if they would leave if he ignored them, because he didn’t want to get up and he didn’t want to pretend to be nice to whoever it was. All he wanted was for life to pause, while he caught up, because right now the world was too much.

So he stayed where he was, his chin resting on one hand. He heard the front door sliding open, noted and recognised the chakra signature, and resigned himself to a pointless visit.

“Itachi?” It was Izumi, peering into the kitchen cautiously. “May I come in?”

He closed his eyes briefly. “I guess.”

She edged inside, sitting down opposite him. For a while, neither of them spoke. It had been a few months since they had last seen each other, Itachi’s schedule had been hectic and Izumi had friends to spend her free time with. He glanced sideways at her.

Her eyes were down, studying the surface of the table. She spoke softly, breaking the silence, “How are you doing?”

He was so sick of hearing that question. Anyone with half a brain would know the answer to that – how did they think he was doing, with his parents dead, and his brother upset, and his best friend crippled, and his entire clan hating him?

“I’m fine.” He answered shortly.

Now, Izumi looked at him, her dark eyes soft. “But you’re not, are you?”

He sat up a bit straighter, letting the hand he had been leaning on lay against the table. His broken arm was still strapped securely. He looked at her, and shook his head. There was no point in pretending.

“I’m so sorry,” Izumi said, “About everything that happened. And I know you’ll never, ever ask for help, so I thought I’d just help anyway.”

At that, Itachi’s lips quirked upward in a small, involuntary smile.

“I brought some food,” she continued, reaching for her bag. Itachi hadn’t even noticed her carrying it. “I figured you wouldn’t really want to cook much. But you and Sasuke still have to eat.”

When Itachi remained silent, Izumi met his eyes hesitantly.

“There’s some dango, too.”

Silence again.

“And don’t listen to the clan, they’re just . . .” She shrugged. “Adjusting. The things they’re saying, they aren’t important, and it’s not true, anyway.”

“What isn’t true?” Itachi hadn’t heard a whisper from anyone in the clan since the meeting with the Hokage, although he had to admit he had been purposefully avoiding everyone.

“Oh,” Izumi’s gaze dropped to the table. “You didn’t know.”

Itachi waited expectantly.

“They’re saying terrible things about you.”

He had been expecting that. It was one of the reasons he had been avoiding interacting with anyone.

“But ignore them.”

He nodded.

“There’s one more thing,” Izumi said, and now she sounded hesitant. “I know the funeral is tomorrow . . .”

Itachi’s breath caught in his throat. He closed his eyes, shutting down any rising emotion.

“Nothing I do can make that easier for you. But I brought you something, just in case it can help.” She picked up a small container beside her bag and set it on the table.

It was a small plant, just a few green leaves sprouting forth.

“It’s a Peace Lily,” Izumi explained. “I know that’s all you want. It’s all you’ve ever wanted. I can’t help your dream much, but this is a little bit of peace, for now. For you.”

He stared at her, his chest feeling tight. The lily sat innocently on the table, green and alive, and he didn’t know what to do with himself. Izumi stood up, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. She moved around the table, and sat down beside him.

“I know you don’t like being touched, but I’m going to hug you, because you need it.”

He barely even heard the words. With a long sigh, he leant into her shoulder, tensing slightly when her arms wrapped around him. He let his eyes slide closed, focusing on nothing, and he relaxed after a few minutes, suddenly feeling exhausted.

Izumi stayed for supper after that, and once Sasuke wandered into the kitchen to see who was visiting, she cooked for the three of them. Sasuke seemed pleased with the company, chatting shyly, and sending sideways glances at his brother when Itachi remained largely silent throughout the evening.

After Izumi left, Sasuke went to bed, and Itachi, with tomorrow looming over him like a terrible black cloud, wandered aimlessly around the house, feeling restless and unsettled. Eventually, the deep pain hollowing his chest became too much, and he sat down outside, looking up at the stars, taking carefully measured breaths to calm himself.

It felt like hours later when he heard someone move, and glancing over his shoulder revealed Sasuke, eyes red and watering, clutching his blanket to his chest. Neither of them said a word. Itachi raised his good arm, beckoning, and Sasuke scuttled forward, settling himself into the warmth of Itachi’s body, face pressed into his shirt. Itachi leaned more comfortably back against the wall, slinging Sasuke’s blanket over the both of them.

Sasuke fell asleep fairly easily, leaving Itachi to continue to watch the stars in silence.

 _Mother . . . Father . . ._ He held Sasuke close. _I’ll protect him forever, I swear. I hope, wherever you are, that you’re together. And at peace._


	6. 5 - Take a Breath

The sun was still shining.

The whole world looked bright, and alive, and it made Itachi feel sick.

His hands were shaking slightly as he tied his hair back, left arm still bandaged and aching, eyes remaining locked on the mirror, as though by staring into himself he might block out the rest of the world around him. This was not a day he wanted to face. This was a day he wanted to bury away, to ignore, to climb back into bed and pretend that morning had not dawned. He wanted to freeze time, until he had the courage he needed.

Sasuke was sitting in a huddle on the edge of Itachi’s bed, dressed in his black mourning clothes, looking sickly pale. His watched Itachi with enormous moist eyes, looking to his older brother for guidance.

An older brother who hadn’t been able to do one thing – who hadn’t been able to save their parents even though he was right there, _right there_ touching them. He looked at Sasuke, who looked back at him, and the silence was painful.

 

Sasuke’s hand felt cold in his, the young boy pressed against Itachi’s side as though he was the only thing holding him up. Maybe he was, but Itachi didn’t know if he had the strength to hold himself up, and holding Sasuke as well might be too much. People parted for them, dividing silently as Itachi walked, and the whole thing felt like some strange illusion. Only this one, he couldn’t release himself from.

He didn’t want to speak. But the duty of the eulogy fell to the oldest child. And he was more than just that, he was the Head of the prestigious Uchiha clan, and it was expected of him. Hard things were often expected of him.

Sasuke was trembling in his grip.

“Do you want me to take him?” Izumi asked in a whisper, because she understood. She knew how hard life could be.

Itachi started to nod, but Sasuke suddenly gripped him tighter.

“No, Nii-san, please, don’t make me go.” Sasuke shook his head violently, eyes suddenly welling with tears. “I don’t want to go with her, please.” He pressed his face into Itachi’s hip. “I want to stay with you.”

 _I want you to stay with me too._ “It’s alright,” he nodded to Izumi. “He can stay with me. Thank you.”

She returned his nod, and moved to take her place in the waiting crowd.

 

Sasuke’s grip did not loosen. He stood plastered to Itachi’s side, one thumb stuck between his lips in an unusual show of childish vulnerability.

Itachi scanned the crowd. Mostly Uchiha, of course, but a surprising amount of Leaf shinobi were present. Kakashi was there, watching him as he had done so often on missions, with just a casual eye on the boy, in case he needed it. Itachi didn’t think he had ever been more grateful to the Copy Nin, who never seemed to notice how much just being there helped.

He wished Shisui was amongst them, his steady friend who could put him at ease with a wry smile and a whispered comment, who would only need to mouth “It’s okay,” and Itachi would believe him. His eyes reached Yashiro, who was waiting shrewdly, and Itachi felt his sick nausea increase.

He could not appear weak. He could not break down. He could not feel too much. With a pounding heart that only he could hear, and a voice so calm he thought it belonged to someone else, he began to speak, with the sun shining and his brother a shaky statue at his side.

“Life is a strange thing. No one chooses it. No one gets to decide if they want to be alive. It’s one thing we’re given with no thought to what we want – no control over it. But once we have it, whatever comes next is all our own.

“And life’s success is often measured by what was left behind. What you gave back to the world after it gave you a chance. What remains after you are gone shows you the life that you led.” He paused. His chest hurt. “Uchiha Fugaku and Mikoto left a lot behind. They left one of the Fire Country’s greatest clans. Our name – their name – is known throughout the five nations. They left a new path for Konoha to take, one that will lead us to a better future. There has been tension and unease within this village, but they died trying to change that. And they did succeed.

“They also . . . left me and my brother.” Itachi was momentarily derailed as Sasuke tugged at the waist of his shirt. He glanced down at him, his dark eyes locking onto Sasuke’s. They were wet and water filled, and Sasuke reached his arms up silently. Itachi hesitated. After a moment of indecision, he picked Sasuke up, and the younger boy immediately buried his face in Itachi’s neck.

Itachi felt warm tears drip onto his skin. He blinked his own back.

“We are their greatest treasure and the thing they valued most in life. We are their legacy, and their greatest source of pride. And just as we do not choose to be given life, they did not choose to have theirs taken from them, but their memory and will live on through us.

“As the ones left behind, it is our duty to continue with the life they wanted. We now carry their path, their name, their future. And while both life and death are out of our control, _living_ is not. We decide how we live, and we decide what we leave behind."

He scanned the crowd. Kakashi knew. He had lost his parents as well. “We are the ones left behind, and since we are behind we must choose to move forward. Because life and death are intertwined, and there cannot be one without the other. Fugaku and Mikoto made a difference to the world both in living and in dying. And that,” he felt Sasuke shift against him, still hiding away, “Is what life truly means. We need to leave an impact, in all that we do. Because that can change the world.

“And every change – be it as small as a flower blooming or as large as a life snatched away before its time – counts. Every decision we make changes the future.

“We may be the ones left behind. But now it’s our duty to move forwards.”

There were things he wanted to say, that he couldn’t. Things no one else in the world needed to hear. Things that weren’t allowed to be spoken. Thoughts that belonged to him, and to his parents, and only he could hear them now.

_I’m sorry, Mother, Father. I know I messed up. I could have done better. I can always do better. There’s a lot for me to carry in this world now. But I will. I’ll do it all. I’ll make it better._

Sasuke’s warm tears were still dripping on his neck, less regularly, but unquestionably present.

_I’ll manage. I’ll hold the clan, and I’ll hold my dream, and I’ll hold Sasuke’s hand, and I promise . . . It’ll be enough. I’ll be enough._

 

He stood over the two gravestones, Sasuke asleep in his arms, exhausted by grief and too much crying, and he felt like he was made of the same stone. Heavy, cold, and standing against everything, unmoving and unaffected.

Sasuke shifted in his arms, letting out a wet hiccup and muffled sob, evidence of troubled sleep. Itachi held him slightly tighter, wanting to comfort. He had nothing to offer beyond his physical presence. Maybe it was enough.

 

He didn’t go home. He carried Sasuke to the hospital, the child remaining in a deep, exhausted sleep the entire time.  No one questioned him, no one even tried to stop him. Which was good, because he wasn’t going to listen to anyone.

Itachi slid into the room Shisui was in, startling the older boy out of a daydream.

“Hey,” Shisui said softly. “Everything okay?”

He received no answer. Itachi didn’t even shake his head. He didn’t need to.

Shisui understood. “I’m sorry. I wanted to be there for you.”

Itachi wanted to climb up next to Shisui, to bury his face in his cousin’s shoulder like he had done so often in the past. But he didn’t want to put Sasuke down. He didn’t want to wake him either, but he had a feeling he would, because his chest was feeling tight, and his eyes were wet, and he just wanted to lie down and cry into Shisui’s neck. It had been years since he’d done that last, years since he had felt this awful. Years since he had felt a burning _need_ for Shisui, and the intensity of it was slightly nauseating.

But he couldn’t go to him, because Sasuke was clinging to him as though his life depended on it – maybe it did – and the little boy’s breathing was interspersed with the occasional sob. So Itachi stayed where he was, letting his back rest against the wall, staring at Shisui with dark, vulnerable eyes. Then he felt shaky, and nauseous, and he slid to the floor; Sasuke clung to him even harder.

 _It’s not fair,_ he thought, bitter at the world, because it had snatched his parents away, it had snatched Sasuke’s happiness away, it had snatched Shisui’s comfort away, because Shisui couldn’t get up and just walk to Itachi, and hold him like he wanted to be held. _Sasuke’s just a child, he shouldn’t have to deal with this . . ._

He closed his eyes, fighting back tears. His heart was hammering too fast. _But I’m just a child too, and I want to be one for once, and just let someone else take the world from me . . . And I can’t . . ._

He opened his eyes when there was an odd thump, to find Shisui had rolled himself onto the floor, and was dragging himself closer with his arms.

“I’m just going to zombie my way to you, because you look like you need it,” Shisui said, and Itachi was feeling too awful to even retort that ‘zombie’ wasn’t a verb.

He stayed where he was, sitting with his back to the wall and his brother plastered to him, asleep but fidgeting and fretting, and when Shisui reached him Itachi felt something in his chest break. He was shaking slightly when Shisui pulled himself to sit beside him, trying to ignore the painfilled hisses as the older boy tried to find a comfortable position without shooting pain up his spine.

“I’m here,” Shisui said eventually, words slightly strained from pain. “So you can stop being so strong, and stop acting like you’ve got everything together, because I’m here. And I won’t tell, if you need to take a moment to-“

Itachi stuck his head determinedly against Shisui’s shoulder, hot tears finally spilling over. He tried not to cry, he had been trying all day, but when Shisui put an arm around his shoulders he couldn’t help it, and a sob broke from him, into Shisui’s chest.

“It’s okay,” Shisui murmured, holding him close. “I know you’re just a kid, too. It’s okay.”

“No one’s kid . . .” Itachi said shakily.

“What?” Shisui frowned. “What do you mean?”

Itachi stayed firmly where he was, soaking Shisui’s shirt, and explained in a rough voice. “They’re gone. Forever.” He swallowed, his hold on Sasuke was firm. “And we’re nobody’s children now.”

 

 

The next few weeks passed by in a dull blur, feeling like an underwater dream.

Itachi had been granted two weeks off to deal with everything, and he didn’t know how to handle free time. There was too much to think, too many things he didn’t want to focus on leaping to the forefront of his mind. He tried to keep busy.

Sasuke was quiet. He went out for hours on his own, wandering the village and the training grounds, and returning with his face still blank and his voice bland. Itachi was worried about him. Sasuke seemed too calm about everything. Itachi could hear him crying at night though, but when he went into his brother’s room, Sasuke pretended to be asleep, tears still streaming. There was a rift between them, and it felt like it was growing bigger each day. Neither one of them knew what to do with the other.

Izumi was in and out often, and to Itachi’s delight, Sasuke was talking openly with her. He knew she wanted him to talk more as well – but he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to do with everything that was happening. He needed his parents’ guidance, more than ever before, but it was unavailable, and he remained silent under her gentle questioning, unwilling to admit to anything that might be incorrect information to part with.

Shisui was the brightest spot in his life, but even his smiles and kind words weren’t helping as they should. There was a pang in Itachi’s chest every time he saw Shisui, and they were together a lot. With Shisui confined to bed, there was nothing but the cold reality that he might remain there for the rest of his life, and Itachi didn’t know how to process that heart wrenching truth. Even though Shisui was still his usual self, assuring Itachi it was temporary, everything would be fine, Itachi couldn’t help but feel that the worst would happen. It always did.

Shisui knew he was fretting and stressing, but for once had no idea how to help him. So he did the few things he could, encouraging Itachi to stop and sit for a moment each day, to just let his mind wander.

“You get too tense,” Shisui murmured one evening, arms around the young boy as they lay together on his bed. This was new behaviour from Itachi, this willingness to be cuddled and held. He was not usually this receptive to prolonged contact, but lately Shisui had been able to keep him still for ages at a time.

Itachi said nothing, eyes staring blankly, listening to the beat of Shisui’s heart, until the feeling of movement from outside made him move his head questioningly. It was Izumi again.

“You should go,” Shisui said, noting with some satisfaction the reluctance that flickered across Itachi’s face. He added whimsically, as Itachi sat up and swung to the floor, “If she sees us snuggling together she might get the wrong idea.”

Itachi looked back at him, momentarily startled. “. . .  There’s . . . no wrong idea to get . . .?” There was an unspoken question – _Is there?_ He stared at Shisui, somewhat thrown.

Shisui had no idea where the comment had come from. He hesitated. “No . . .?” _Was there?_

There was a silence between them, Shisui could see Itachi’s eyes flicking around, mind racing, obviously searching for some explanation to their current situation. “I . . .” His hand went to his hair, tucking some back behind his ear, and Shisui knew he only did that when he was nervous.

Neither of them added anything after that. Itachi left the room slowly, movements careful, as though Shisui might call him back for something. They didn’t mention the odd moment again, but as the days rolled past, Shisui felt different. He felt as though something had changed, something had shifted, so very subtly. He had no idea if Itachi had felt the change, too.

Shisui’s jounin team visited often, coming and going at all times, and they brought smiles and laughter and friendly banter. Itachi sat outside the room when they visited, his back against the door, listening to the cheerfulness and wanting to absorb it into his skin, his very being. He wished for that, for something fun and carefree.

He watered his lily, and kept up with his training. He invited Sasuke to come with him, but the younger boy usually declined, shaking his head and mumbling something about having other things he had to do. The rest of the clan remained relatively silent. The new changes within it and the Leaf would take time to show, but the lack of conflict so far was encouraging. Although, every time Yashiro and Itachi passed by in the streets, the older man would level a death glare at him. Itachi was unaffected, but he made a careful note of it, because if there was going to trouble in the future, he knew exactly who it would come from.

As the end of his two-week absence drew to a close, Itachi found himself looking forward to missions again. He didn’t know how to process grief, and he felt as though he was caught in limbo, floating between two worlds, with nothing concrete around him.

He entered Shisui’s room. The sun was starting to set, the light was dim.

Shisui was reading, the lamp next to him turned on, and he looked up with a smile when Itachi entered. “Hey. How’s it going?”

“Same as usual, I guess.” Itachi sat down on the edge of the bed, looking out the window.

“Everything okay?” Shisui asked, putting his book aside.

“No.” Itachi shook his head slightly. “It’s not. It’s . . . everything . . . I feel like this isn’t real life, it’s just some sort of nightmare that I can’t wake up from. I can’t wrap my head around the last few weeks, they’re unreal.”

“Look at all that happened,” Shisui said. “It’s okay to be thrown by that. It’s okay to have no idea which way is up or down. You can’t rationalize the whole world, and you can’t rationalise feelings.”

“I don’t like what I’m feeling. It’s too much.” He wanted the calmness back, the gently gripped serenity he used to possess, when everything was under control – life, emotions, actions.

The world was a nightmare, and he wanted a dream.

“It just feels like everything I want is unattainable right now.” Itachi said softly. He missed his father’s guidance. He missed his mother’s tranquillity. He missed Sasuke’s optimism. The boy hardly spoke a word these days, and Itachi didn’t know how to reach him. He didn’t know how to help him – he was failing at his task of older brother, of protector, the one role in life he valued above all others.

“I’m a failure,” he said, and he thought the realization would sting, but he felt numb to it. A whole life of being perfect, genius, and it only took one bad day to knock him from his pedestal and leave him lying in the metaphorical dirt.

“You’re not a failure.”

“I am. I failed my parents. I’m failing Sasuke right now – I don’t know what to do with him. I’m supposed to protect him, and I can’t even do that. He’s in this house, right now, and I don’t know what to say to him. I don’t know how to help him feel better, or deal with everything that’s going on around us. How can I lead a clan when I can’t even lead my baby brother?”

“Okay, you are panicking,” Shisui laid a hand on Itachi’s thigh. “Breathe. You and Sasuke just need to talk. That’s all. Just like you and I do. And you’re doing fine, the clan is going in the exact direction you wanted. No conflict, no bloodshed. Peace. Just like you want. It will be fine, this is just a rough patch-“

“You can’t walk,” Itachi broke in, looking distraught. “It’s _our_ dream, we’re chasing it together, and _you can’t_. I need you by my side, because I can’t carry the whole world alone, but you _can’t_.”

“I will.” Shisui held his gaze. “It’s only temporary.”

“You keep saying that, but we don’t know,” Itachi stood up, agitated. He paced restlessly. “We don’t _know_. It might be forever – you might never stand up again and I can’t deal with this all right now.” He ran both hands through his hair, eyes wide.

“Breathe,” Shisui repeated. “It’s just a bad patch. You’ll get through it, like you do everything else. You’re a genius remember? The best we’ve ever seen, there’s nothing you can’t handle. Come here,” he finished gently.

“I want to go back to work,” Itachi said miserably, but he returned to the side of the bed. “I’m achieving nothing right now, and I don’t want to just waste my life-“

“Shh,” Shisui said, getting one hand around Itachi’s good wrist. “Come here. It’s okay. Don’t look so worried.” He tugged gently until Itachi climbed up beside him and lay down. “Just take a minute to breathe. Geez, we need to teach you to meditate. It may save my sanity.”

Itachi snuggled into Shisui’s shirt. He rested his bad arm over Shisui’s chest. It had been healed, but he was supposed to take it easy and not overtax it for a few weeks. It was still bandaged firmly for support, but the lingering pain had gone. His mind was still churning, trying to balance everything at once.

“Just breathe,” Shisui murmured into his hair.

Itachi let out a shuddering breath, but he lay still. One of Shisui’s hands stroked his hair, and Itachi closed his eyes.

_Breathe._

_Just breathe._

_As long as you’re breathing, life ticks on. As long as you’re breathing, you can change your life._

_You can change the world._

Life starts with a breath.

 

“You sure you’re alright?” Itachi asked, nervous and hovering. “Because we can wait, if you need to.”

Sasuke held back a sigh. “I’m fine. Really. You can stop worrying.” He was trying to extract his hand from Itachi’s. It was not an easy task. “I’ve been to school before.”

“Should I come and pick you up later?” Itachi asked, not even noticing Sasuke’s attempts to get free. He stared at the Academy building, heart pounding, and he just wanted Sasuke to stay with him for the day. He didn’t want to leave him.

“I’ll be fine.”

 _I won’t_. “I don’t have a mission today. I can be waiting when you’re done.”

Sasuke finally broke Itachi’s hold, wiggling his fingers experimentally. He answered firmly, “No, it’s okay. I can get home on my own.”

“I don’t mind coming to get you.”

“I’m fine, Nii-san.” Sasuke sounded exasperated. “I’ll come straight home, just like I promised.” He took a few steps away. “Bye.”

“Bye, Sasuke,” Itachi whispered back, looking at another child. She tugged her father’s arm, until he leaned down to give her a hug. _Never again_ , he thought dully. _Sasuke will never have that again._

He was still staring, when he heard Sasuke return. He looked down at his brother. Somewhat shyly, Sasuke kept his eyes down on the ground, head turned away as he silently held his arms out in offer. Itachi didn’t think twice, he dropped to his knees and held Sasuke tightly. He didn’t want to let go again.

But eventually, Sasuke pulled away, sending him a quick grin, and he turned to run into the Academy.

 

Itachi’s first day back was not exactly how he had expected it.

Upon entering the Anbu locker room, as he usually did each morning, he found a note stuck to his locker, requesting he report to the Hokage’s office as soon as possible.

“Maybe you’re in trouble,” Kakashi teased, reading the note over Itachi’s shoulder.

“How can he be in trouble when he’s only just returned?” Tenzou asked, with a wry chuckle.

Itachi chose to ignore them both. He folded the note and placed it in his weapons pouch. While Kakashi snickered behind him, he left the room and made his way to the Hokage’s office. He assumed this was just a formality after his time off, or perhaps the Hokage wanted to touch base and see how he was doing.

That sounded personal, and it irritated him. He didn’t need any baby-sitting.

He had squashed his irritation before he stepped into the room, however; his perfect shinobi mask in place and as impenetrable as always.

The council was assembled. One of the older shinobi had stepped up to replace Danzo. Itachi wondered what had happened to the two surviving Foundation members, as he bowed low on one knee and waited for further instructions.

“How are you doing, Itachi?” Hiruzen asked.

The question threw Itachi slightly, and he faltered. “I’m . . . fine . . .” He hadn’t expected it, because this wasn’t a casual visit, this was business, and such questions weren’t important to business.

“Were these two weeks enough for you? You can take longer if you want.”

“No, I’d prefer to work.” He wanted to be useful. He wanted to pursue his dream.

The Hokage nodded. “I understand. Itachi, we called you here for something important.”

He expected that much; he wouldn’t be there for something trivial.

“With Danzo’s agenda uncovered by you, it has been noted that there had been some corruption amongst the Leaf’s Anbu. The Foundation was being used solely for Danzo’s personal missions, not all of which had the Leaf’s best interests at heart. With Danzo now gone, and the Foundation all but wiped out, Anbu can once again be utilized correctly – to serve and protect the village.”

Itachi nodded.

“The council has decided that the Anbu division needs its own leader, someone to oversee the missions and take the reports. And of course, someone who can keep an eye on the inner workings of the village and let us know of any internal corruption or ill intent. Whoever we chose would work closely with the council, and would oversee Konoha’s defences. They would need to be loyal, with good judgement, and intelligent, and above all, trust-worthy enough to deal with all of this village’s affairs, some of which may need to be kept secret. So,” Hiruzen laced his fingers together and peered expectantly at Itachi. “Do you have any idea why we called you in here?”

“To recommend someone for the position?” He answered somewhat hesitantly. It made sense, he supposed. He knew the Anbu shinobi well, and had served on several different teams depending on what mission arose. And he had been basically spying on the Anbu for months, so he had enough inside knowledge to make an informed choice. Of course, the obvious choice for recommendation was Hatake Kakashi.

“That won’t be necessary. The council has already discussed options. We called you here because we want it to be you.”

In lieu of his jaw dropping, Itachi raised an eyebrow. “Me?”

“Since the day you became a Leaf shinobi, your record has been impeccable. You’ve proven your loyalty and willingness to serve more than enough. There is no one else I would rather have leading my elite Black Ops than you.”

Itachi didn’t know what to say, and so he remained silent.

“This isn’t a small decision, though,” Hiruzen continued. “There will be many more duties for you to take on. We have detailed what the job would consist of.” He reached for a scroll on his desk and slid it forward towards Itachi. “I would like you to look it over, and come to your own decision.”

Itachi got to his feet, taking the scroll from the desk.

“Take as much time as you need to decide.”

He nodded once, holding the scroll cautiously. It was light, but he knew the contents would lay heavy in his soul. But . . . _Head of Anbu_ , with the power to decide what they did and did not do . . . one step closer. One step closer to the dream.

“You are dismissed, Itachi. Have a good day.”

“Thank you, Hokage-sama.” Feeling somewhat dazed, he remembered to bow, before leaving the room, the scroll clutched in a trembling hand. He returned to the locker room.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Tenzou said, his face amused.

“What, did you get fired?” Kakashi teased.

“No,” Itachi said. He added, stunned, “I think I got promoted.”


	7. 6 - A New Beginning

“Damn,” Shisui began to roll the scroll up again. “That’s a lot to ask of you. Are you going to do it?”

“I don’t know,” Itachi said faintly, sitting cross legged at the foot of Shisui’s bed, staring at his best friend with pensive dark eyes.

“You’d need a psyche evaluation,” Shisui snorted, eying the requirements of the scroll before they were rolled out of view. “Think you’ll pass that? I’ve always said you were nuts.”

“There’s a lot to consider . . .”

“Like what?”

“Can I do it all?” Itachi asked, chewing nervously on his bottom lip. “You can see how much I’d need to do. And there’s still the clan . . . I am the Head, you know? And Sasuke. When would I ever spend time with him? He needs me, I can’t just-“

“So ask him,” Shisui said. “Ask him what he thinks.”

“What do _you_ think?”

“I think you should do it. It’s Head of _Anbu_ , you’d have to be crazy to pass it up.”

“But what about you? I need to be here taking care of you-“

“No,” Shisui said firmly. At his sharp tone, Itachi drew back. “Don’t even say it. This is your future, your _dream_ , you will not throw it away just for me. Don’t even consider me in the equation. This is about you and Sasuke. Whatever you choose, choose it for you – put yourself first for once. Do you understand?”

“But-“

“No ‘buts’. Do not let me hold you back. Go forward, with all that you are. I’ll be tagging along behind,” Shisui grinned.

There was a relieved smile on Itachi’s face. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Go talk to Sasuke. He’s the one you need to discuss this with.”

Itachi nodded, running one hand somewhat nervously through his hair. He reached for the scroll, and Shisui handed it over. Now was as good a time as any to find Sasuke and discuss things.

Sasuke was in the kitchen, sitting at the table and eating supper. Itachi felt slightly guilty about that – he had been home, and could have easily made Sasuke something, instead of the boy having to find food on his own. But Sasuke didn’t look at all put out, in fact, he was smiling to himself as he ate, and when he caught sight of Itachi his smile broadened.

“It’s nice to see you smiling,” Itachi said, a smile of his own making an unscheduled appearance. He sat down opposite Sasuke and placed the scroll on the table.

“We had sparring matches in class today,” Sasuke said, looking smug. “I won all of mine.” The proud smile remained.

“Of course you did,” Itachi said. “I’m proud of you.”

Sasuke beamed.

“I needed to ask you something.” Itachi felt a flicker of unease in his belly.

“Yup.” Sasuke continued to eat, unware of his brother’s nervousness.

“I’ve been offered the position of Head of Anbu.”

“That sounds important.” Sasuke eyed the scroll. “Is that what that is?”

“Yes. If I accept, it will mean I’d have to work a bit more. We might not get much time together.” As things stood now, Itachi was only needed for missions, and sometimes he would go days without being called in. As Head of Anbu, he would have work every day. He was certain he would be able to streamline it soon enough, but overtime seemed inevitable to start with. “And you’d probably have to come home by yourself most days.”

Sasuke made a face. “Well, I’d miss you. But I’m big enough to get supper on my own. As long as you’re here when I go to sleep.”

“So, big enough to make supper, but not big enough to go to bed without a good night kiss?” Itachi teased.

Sasuke’s cheeks coloured. “No! I just . . . I like to say good night to you, that’s all.”

“So you wouldn’t mind if I was working more?”

Sasuke chewed thoughtfully on his food. “Can we make a deal?”

“What sort of deal?” Itachi was amused by this, Sasuke bargaining for one-to-one time.

“One afternoon a week, you pick me up from school and we spend the day together. Then you can take the job.” He waited to see if Itachi would accept.

“Anything else?”

“Yes. That’s our day. So only you and me. No Shisui.”

Itachi had to supress a snort. Sasuke and Shisui were forever vying for his attention, and while Sasuke was just a child, Shisui should know better, and mostly did it to antagonize Sasuke. “Alright. No Shisui. Just the two of us.”

“Pinky promise.” Sasuke reached a hand across the table, little finger extended and expression solemn.

Itachi stretched his hand out and linked his finger around his brother’s. Sasuke nodded, satisfied that the contract was now legally binding, and took his hand back and continued eating.

And it suddenly occurred to Itachi that it was _real_ , this life that had been in an underwater haze for the past several weeks. It was real, and tangible. This was _life_ – hard, cold but there. This was his reality. He was in this world, whether he liked it or not, with its flaws and his flaws, and he needed to make it his own.

Every tragedy, every joy, every moment was real, and he needed to build his life around them. Even if it was hard, even if it felt impossible, it was what he had been given, and it was his responsibility to take his life and use it to the best of his abilities. He couldn’t change the past, no matter how much it hurt, but he could control his future.

He had a clear goal in mind, he had the resources to get there, and he had the sheer tenacity to make it happen.

Uchiha Itachi, at only thirteen years old, was going to change the world.

 

The world Itachi was changing was apparently swamped in paperwork.

He sighed, sitting down at his desk – and that was pretty cool, he had a desk, in his own office, and when he’d told Shisui, shown him the work he was doing proudly, Shisui had made several remarks about dying of boredom and at least one paper jet – and staring balefully at the papers that seemed to multiply every time he blinked.

He knew this was just back log – with all the changes in Konoha, it was inevitable that there was some red tape to sort through. He was keen to get it finished fast, though. The specialist medic shinobi from Mist was scheduled to arrive to look at Shisui today, and Shisui had asked for Itachi to be there.

He glanced uneasily at the sun outside, calculating the time. He had a few minutes before he would need to leave, but a few minutes wouldn’t make much difference in the seemingly endless mountain of papers. The council had already told him it was okay to take his time sorting through this, since things had been scrambled since Danzo’s death, and most Anbu-related things had been under the control of the abhorrent old man. With Itachi now in charge, he was able to right any wrongs and realign the Anbu.

The enormity of the task sometimes intimidated him, but today he was more focused on Shisui than his own work. Lost in thought, he was startled when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” he called hesitantly still unused to being in a position of power. He was usually the one outside the door, awaiting orders, and being in an authoritative position – above all other Anbu – was unsettling to start with.

“Yo.” It was Kakashi. He looked at the scattering of papers on Itachi’s desk. “Keeping busy, I see.”

“There’s a bit of catching up to do,” Itachi admitted. “But I think I’ve got the hang of it. Did you need something?”

Kakashi wandered to the window, his back to Itachi.

“I’m quitting Anbu,” Kakashi said, casually, staring at the fading sunlight.

Itachi felt his skin pale. “But you . . .”

“It’s not for me,” Kakashi said, without turning to look at the young Anbu captain. “Too much corruption. Too much dirty work. Too much blood without enough reason.”

“I’ll change that,” Itachi whispered, feeling like he had been thrown into a stormy sea with nothing to hold onto. He couldn’t imagine the Anbu without Kakashi’s guidance. “I will, I’ll-“

“I know you will,” Kakashi finally turned around. His expression was warm in the face of Itachi’s frozen shock. He smiled. “When you do, maybe I’ll come back. But you don’t need me right now.” He cut Itachi off before the Uchiha could protest. “You’ve got the whole of Anbu under your command now. You’ve got the council on your side. You’ve got everything you need to make the changes you want. You’ve got a dream to follow.”

Itachi nodded slightly.

“I’ve got my own things to follow.”

“Thank you,” Itachi said gently. “For everything you’ve done for me.” Kakashi was the closest thing Itachi had ever had to a mentor, he had overtaken so many others at such a young age that there never seemed to be anyone to fill the role, until he joined Anbu.

“Hey,” Kakashi smiled broadly, reaching out a hand to ruffle Itachi’s hair. The boy ducked away, shooting an irritated look at the Copy Nin. “I’m not leaving the village, just this division. I’ll still see you around.”

In a rare show of affection, Itachi returned the smile, soft and light. And he repeated, because he wanted to be sure Kakashi understood how much it really meant, “Thank you.”

“Meh,” Kakashi, brushing aside Itachi’s sentiment. “Don’t get all soft and fluffy now, you’ve got a lot to take on in the future.” He glanced out the window again. “It’s getting late. Don’t you have somewhere more important to be?”

“Yes.”

“Go,” Kakashi said. “You’re in charge now, you can take time when you need to.”

“That sounds like an abuse of power.” Itachi frowned.

“For all your brilliance, you are still a naïve little kid, you know that?” Kakashi rolled his visible eye. “We know Shisui wants you there. The paperwork isn’t going anywhere.”

Itachi hesitated.

“Now what?”

“It’s just . . .” He let out a frustrated breath. “If Shisui never gets better. Then what? What do we do with that reality?”

“You stay at your friend’s side,” Kakashi shrugged. “Never turn your back on your friends.”

“I won’t.” Itachi promised, and he wondered if there was a deeper meaning behind Kakashi’s words.

The Copy Nin did not dwell on it. With a cheery smile, he waved. “Well, I better go. Say ‘hi’ to Shisui for me.”

“I will.” Itachi remained where he was, staring somewhat blankly as Kakashi vanished, and feeling a little confused. Of course, Kakashi leaving Anbu was shocking enough; Itachi had worked very closely with him for years and having him leave . . . well, it was something he needed time to wrap his head around.

He would have time to focus on it later; for now, he had an appointment to keep.

Shisui was, puzzlingly, at the hospital when Itachi arrived – having flickered home to find it empty -, and the young genius raised an eyebrow.

“How did you get here?” Itachi asked curiously.

“Oh, I made Yashiro bring me.” Shisui answered casually.

“How did you manage that?”

“I told him you said he had to,” Shisui grinned, and Itachi wanted to slap a despairing hand over his face.

Yet another reason for Yashiro to hate him. “You did that on purpose.”

“Of course.”

“Why are you trying to make him hate me more than he already does?”

“No reason other than my own amusement.”

Itachi was about to complain – or at least chastise – when several more people joined them in the room. Itachi recognised Iyashi – the medic who had been overseeing Shisui since he was injured. He had had very few dealings with the man himself, but he knew the medic was incredibly skilled.

Kusushi was with him as well – and Itachi knew him fairly well by now. He was often the medic who treated the Anbu. Itachi liked his no nonsense approach and quiet demeanour.

There was another shinobi with them – he was tall and lean, with darkly tanned skin and the Kirigakure forehead protector on his head.

“How are you feeling, Shisui?” Iyashi asked.

“Not much, which I suppose is still a problem,” Shisui replied, eying the Kiri nin.

“This is Aruku,” Iyashi indicated to the other shinobi. “He’s the medic from Kiri I told you about. He’s had a lot of experience with your type of injury.”

“Your youth is an advantage,” Aruku said. Itachi liked his voice, it was warm and flowing. “Chances of recovery are much higher when you’re young.”

“What are the chances of recovery, in general?” Shisui inquired with a raised eyebrow.

“Most cases I see like this are about fifty/fifty,” Aruku said. “But until I see what damage you have incurred, I cannot say with certainty.”

“. . . Okay,” Shisui sounded nervous. Itachi couldn’t blame him. Fifty per cent was not the sort of number they had been hoping for.

“Can you turn over on your own?” Aruku asked.

“Yeah.” Shisui rolled onto his stomach. Itachi took a step closer to him, peering curiously as Aruku pushed Shisui’s shirt up his back to reveal the wound at the base of his spine. It had been covered in a paper tag infused with various medications and some sort of healing chakra, and Itachi had never seen it before.

As Aruku pulled the tag back, Itachi wished he hadn’t. It was a small hole, dark red and round, and it looked deep enough to stick a finger in – although Itachi knew that was impossible, but any sort of injury to that part of the body shouldn’t _look_ so deep. There was dark skin around it, charcoal grey in places and blistered red in others. Itachi remembered reports of an exploding tag, but seeing Shisui’s usually peach pale skin looking grey was nauseating. There was a glimmer of white bone peeping from the hole in his back.

Itachi drew his head away, closing his eyes for a second, feeling sick.

“You’re not going to pass out, are you?” Aruku asked, sounding amused.

“No.” _Maybe._

Shisui shifted a bit, trying to see Itachi’s face.

“I’m fine,” Itachi assured him, but Shisui’s squirming had caused some yellowy looking fluid to seep from the hole, and Itachi felt his vision swim. Luckily there was still a chair close to Shisui’s bedside, and Itachi sat down rather abruptly.

Shisui chuckled. “Considering all the things you’ve done in your life; this little thing is what churns your stomach?”

Aruku smiled, placing a hand above the wound. “It’s because you are his friend.” He pressed his palm gently to Shisui’s broken skin. “I’m going to send my chakra into you to see where the injury is stemming from. Let me know if you can feel anything.”

“Okay.” Shisui said, resting his chin on his folded arms and grinning at Itachi’s ashen face.

Aruku moved his hand slightly upwards, and Shisui twitched.

“Felt that. Feels warm.”

“That’s good.” Aruku’s hand moved down again, over the wound, then to the back of Shisui’s right thigh. “Anything here?”

“Bit tingly.”

“And here?”

“Hm, not really, just- bloody fucking _Christ_ , the hell did you _do_?” Shisui jerked his body forward, arms gripping at the bed and pulling. “Fuck!”

“So you clearly felt that,” Itachi said dryly.

“Try to keep still,” Aruku said blandly, moving his hand to Shisui’s other leg.

“How can I keep still when you’re burning my whole leg off?” Shisui snapped, glaring over his shoulder. He tensed, clearly expecting the same stabbing pain, but none came.

Aruku straightened up, a faint smile playing at the corner of his lips. “I apologize. I needed to reach my chakra quite deep there, and it can be painful.”

Shisui’s expression was thoroughly unamused.

“However, it looks like we might have good news. There is a lot of damage to your spine, but the swelling doesn’t seem to have done too much damage to the nerves. I am confident we can restore at least some mobility.”

“Some?” Shisui asked. “How much is some?”

“You will walk again,” Aruku assured. “But I cannot promise you will return to shinobi work.”

Itachi lifted his head. “Are you certain about that?”

Aruku shook his head. “Each case is individual. A lot depends on Shisui – some people don’t respond as well to treatment. It probably won’t be easy.”

“What do you need me to do?” Shisui’s voice was quiet, but there was steel hard resolve underneath it.

“For the first few days, I’ll do treatment about twice a day,” Aruku explained. “With chakra manipulation, to stimulate nerve regrowth and blood flow. It’s going to hurt, but I can’t give you anything for the pain, because I need to know exactly what you’re feeling, and where.”

“That’s fine.”

“If all goes well, we can start some muscle building exercises. And hopefully, some water therapy. And if that works, you’ll be walking soon.”

“Water therapy?” Itachi questioned.

“The body is buoyant. So being in water relieves some the pressure of muscles trying to support him. You don’t, by any chance, have a large lake nearby?”

“As a matter of fact,” Shisui said, looking pleased with himself, “We do.”

 

It was Sasuke’s afternoon. As promised, Itachi gave him at least one afternoon a week, with no work, no one else, just the two of them. And Sasuke had immediately asked for them to go training together, which Itachi had equally immediately vetoed for next week, when he was feeling less exhausted.

Sasuke had been disappointed, but the bribe of as much ice cream as he wanted had solved the problem fairly quickly. Which was how Itachi found himself sitting calmly in the shade of a tree next to the little tea house he liked to visit, while Sasuke sat beside him consuming his body weight in ice cream.

It had been a while since Itachi had just sat down and done nothing. He usually tried not to, because doing nothing made his mind race, and sometimes it was better not to dwell on the deep and dark thoughts that lay dormant in his mind and leapt to life the moment he relaxed. Of course, some days he didn’t need to think about those dark thoughts. Some days Sasuke threw his own out into the open instead.

“I miss Mom and Dad.”

So it was going to be one of _those_ days. Itachi supressed a sigh.

Sasuke finished his ice cream, and looked rather imploringly at his brother. “Don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Why couldn’t you save them?” Sasuke’s genuinely innocent question felt like a blade through the heart, because Itachi had asked himself the same thing, dozens and dozens of times.

“I . . .”

“I’m sorry,” Sasuke said, catching his lower lip between his teeth and staring at his feet. “I know you tried. I shouldn’t have brought it up. But I miss them . . .”

“So do I.” _I miss you, too_. He didn’t say it, though. Sasuke wouldn’t understand. But the boy had been different since their parents died, he didn’t smile as much. Didn’t want to play as much. Didn’t vie for Itachi’s attention as much – and Itachi wasn’t going to lie, that hurt a bit. He had assumed Sasuke would want to spend _more_ time with him – not less.

It was as though one of them had grown up a bit, and one of them had de-aged. And Itachi knew it was stupid, but he still listened in the mornings for his mother’s voice. He still waited when he got home to hear her greet him. He still paused outside his father’s study, waiting for the voice that never came. He still sat at the table after dinner, waiting for them to both sit with him.

Sasuke was still crying at night, though less frequently. It brought back memories, from when he was just a baby. Itachi had listened to him cry then, and he would hear his mother get up and comfort him. He would listen to her soft murmurs. Sometimes his father had woken up, and told baby Sasuke stories about the great warrior he would become, and how he would fear nothing soon, and never cry again.

Itachi wanted to hear that again. He hated the silence that sat in the house now, at night.

Sasuke shuffled closer to Itachi, carefully avoiding eye contact. He leant into Itachi’s side, head still turned away.

Itachi wasn’t sure if he should put his arm around Sasuke or not. Sometimes, the boy seemed receptive to contact, craving it, seeking it, but other times he shunned Itachi’s attempts at affection. So Itachi stayed still, barely breathing.

Sasuke sighed, snuggling a little more into Itachi’s side, and Itachi let himself breathe a bit easier.

“How’s Shisui doing?” Sasuke finally asked.

The question pleasantly surprised Itachi. Sasuke didn’t often ask about Shisui (Itachi thought he was secretly pleased that Shisui wasn’t around as much). “He says therapy is going well,” Itachi answered. “Aruku thinks he’ll start swimming soon.”

“That sounds like fun. Can I come?”

“Of course.” Another surprise. Sasuke volunteering to spend time with Shisui? Itachi smiled slightly. Maybe things were getting easier. Maybe the world wasn’t all bleak and grey.

It warmed Itachi’s heart a little, knowing Sasuke wasn’t resentful towards Shisui. And it gave him a glimmer of hope, that the world might return to something close to normal soon. A world that wasn’t only painful memories and empty rooms, with voices no longer echoing.

Summoning his courage, and stupidly terrified of rejection, Itachi raised an arm, and let it wrap gently around Sasuke, holding him close. Sasuke’s face turned upwards, smiling broadly at him, and Itachi felt his heart stutter. Sasuke closed his eyes, the smile still in place, and snuggled into Itachi.

The moment felt like magic, like the light at the end of what had been a long, dark road.

It made Itachi feel that maybe his dream was attainable. There could be peace in the world, even if it started small. And even if it wasn’t attainable, Itachi still had moments like this. Maybe it wasn’t the whole world, but his heart was at peace, at least.

It was a start.

A beginning.


	8. 7 - Just Keep Swimming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I pulled a Shisui on the weekend and I've hurt my back . . . On the bright side, it means I might have more time to write if I need to take off work. Might get another chapter out before the weekend. On the less bright side, the pain is never ending.

Sasuke was in the middle of the lake, kicking water up enthusiastically and occasionally shouting at the shore for Itachi to “Watch this!”

Itachi sat on the edge of the wooden dock, waving to let Sasuke know he had heard, and hovering uncertainly around Shisui.

After two weeks working with Aruku, Shisui was moving his legs a bit, and the Mist shinobi had decided it would be a good time for him to get into the water and try to swim.

“Or die trying,” Shisui frowned, sitting next to Itachi with his legs hanging limply over the planks, and eying the water below.

“Remember to float if you get into trouble,” Aruku said, standing a few feet behind the two of them. “And signal if you need me to swim out to rescue you.”

“This doesn’t sound safe,” Itachi said nervously. “Are you sure we should try this today? Maybe we should wait a few more weeks.”

“As adorable as your over protectiveness is,” Shisui said, shifting closer to the edge of the wooden planks. “Waiting won’t change anything. Might as well dive in and see what happens.”

“But-“ Before Itachi could even form a protest – Shisui’s recklessness was Itachi’s main source of stress – Shisui heaved himself off the edge of the dock and landed neck deep in water. Itachi nearly dived in after him in a blind panic, if not for Aruku’s calm voice behind him, “Relax, Itachi. Let him try.”

“I’m fine.” Shisui yelled encouragingly, arms gliding through the water to keep himself afloat. “See? I didn’t sink like a stone, you worry wart.”

Sasuke swam over, interested now that Shisui was finally in the lake with him.

While Itachi agonised on dry land, Shisui moved experimentally out across the water, at first just pulling himself along with his arms, but once he was in deeper water, and certain he wouldn’t kick the deep wooden supports of the dock, he tentatively slid his legs through the water. And a grin broke out on his face, because, slow though the movements may be, he could _feel_ them. It was slow and languid, and he couldn’t stay above water without his arms, but he was still moving.

“Nothing to worry about,” Shisui called back to Itachi, who’s pallid face indicated a lot of worry.

Sasuke ducked underwater, and emerged shortly after, shaking his bangs from his face and yelling cheerfully, “Yup, he’s moving!”

“Come to the shallower water,” Aruku said. “Until you can touch the ground. Then I want you to try to lift your knees up. See how high you can get them.”

“Okay.” Shisui pulled himself back towards the lake edge with surety. It was hard to tell if he was touching the ground, he couldn’t always feel anything beneath him. Sometimes the sensations would come and go, but Sasuke paddled ahead of him, and stood up.

“It’s solid here, so you’re probably standing,” Sasuke said.

“Okay.” Shisui’s face creased in concentration. Lifting his legs up was near impossible last week, but this week there had been some progress. Sasuke watched with interest while Aruku coached from the side-lines, encouraging and suggesting, and Itachi fretted for no particular reason, because how much trouble could Shisui get into swimming in circles?

It was a great relief when Shisui finally swam back to the edge of the dock, and Aruku leaned down to grip his hand and pull him up to sit beside Itachi, dripping wet and grinning madly. “See? You worried over nothing. I didn’t get swept away by the current.”

Itachi let out a loud breath. “There is no current in a lake.” He was gripping the edge of the planks tensely, knuckles white.

“Oh, relax,” Shisui nudged him with a damp shoulder. “I’ll make you swim with me next time, then you can make sure I don’t drown by accident.”

Sasuke hauled himself up beside them, pooling water. “Will you? It’ll be fun.”

‘Fun’ and ‘Itachi’ rarely intersected in any Venn diagrams, so the boy remained silent. He leant back a bit, eying the wound slowly healing on Shisui’s spine. It still looked too deep, too permanent, and it made Itachi immeasurably uncomfortable. He wished it was still covered.

“We can come back and try again tomorrow,” Aruku said. “Later today, we’ll do another session of physical therapy. With a bit of luck, and a lot of work, we can get you onto crutches in a week or two.”

Shisui’s smile broadened. “Yeah, I’ll be ready.”

 

The pattern continued for about a week and a half, with Sasuke joining in whenever he was available, paddling alongside Shisui and diving underwater at frequent intervals to report back on his range of motion.

Itachi had half a day free, and so had joined them again on the edge of the lake, smiling as Shisui floated on his back and occasionally managed to propel himself around with small kicks. Shisui glided over to him, grinning, and asked sweetly, “Come swimming with us?”

Itachi glanced towards Sasuke, who was situated a few metres away, with Aruku waist deep and teaching the boy some sort of spectacular looking underwater backflip. “I have to leave soon. I have a short mission this afternoon.”

“That’s a lousy excuse.” Shisui reached up for the edge of the wooden planks and pulled himself up, resting both elbows on the dock and looking quizzically at Itachi while his lower body dangled. “Come on, Sasuke will be thrilled. And when’s the last time you went swimming?”

“Last summer,” Itachi grumbled. “When you blocked my chakra flow while we were sparring and I fell into the lake.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Shisui said with a broad grin. “It was funny, though.” He continued to stare imploringly at his cousin, almost pouting, and Itachi felt something strange stir in his chest. Something strong and difficult to ignore, and he sighed.

“Alright, fine.”

“Yay!” Shisui yelled childishly, letting go of the dock and splashing into the lake again. He resurfaced and shouted, “Sasuke! Your boring brother is coming swimming!”

“Yay!” Sasuke immediately changed course, paddling madly towards the dock to stare in delight as Itachi peeled his shirt off, folded it neatly, and, with something akin to a sigh of resignation, dropped off the dock into the water.

He was immediately assaulted by his brother; Sasuke flinging his arms around Itachi’s neck and squealing in delight while Itachi scrambled to keep them both above water. Shisui’s insufferable smirk was still on his face, and Itachi wanted to hold him underwater for a few minutes until it disappeared.

“I bet I could beat you in a race across the lake,” Shisui said.

Itachi raised a doubtful eyebrow. “Shisui, you can barely move.”

“I can beat you both,” Sasuke boasted. He detached himself from Itachi’s neck, moving instead to grab at his wrist and change topics in an instant, “Nii-san, come and see the flip Aruku taught me.”

He tugged insistently, seemingly trying to drag Itachi through the water. Itachi swam obligingly after him, with Shisui keeping pace at his side. He kept a close eye on him, watching every movement.

“Would you stop looking at me like that?” Shisui said. “I’m not going to break apart.”

“I’m not worried,” Itachi mumbled, denying what was sure to be Shisui’s next statement.

Instead of answering, Shisui ducked underwater for a moment, resurfacing to spit a mouthful of water at Itachi’s face, and laughing loudly at the resulting expression on the younger boy. “Lighten up. You’re going to worry yourself sick.”

“I’m perfectly healthy,” Itachi said, wiping his face with one arm. He reached the shallower waters, and stood up. “You, on the other hand, are not.”

“I’m as mentally sound as you are.”

“Nii-san, watch!” Sasuke interrupted.

“I’m watching.”

Shisui floated next to him, head turned to see what Sasuke was doing. Aruku approached him, and Shisui tipped himself upright, feeling for the bottom of the lake with his toes.

Itachi moved closer to Sasuke, out of earshot of Shisui and Aruku.

“You’re making good progress,” Aruku said.

Sasuke showed off, shouting and splashing, and Itachi looked indulgently on.

“Yeah,” Shisui said. “Is it enough, though? Are you happy with it?”

“I am. It would be better elsewhere, though.”

“How?”

“Most cases like you, I have them in Mist, at the beach.” Aruku watched the brothers. “The salt water is good for healing. The current and waves present a greater challenge. Here, you have no resistance. You don’t need to work so much. I am afraid we might plateau in your recovery, with only this lake at our disposal.”

“You’re saying this is as good as I’ll ever get, here in Konoha?”

“Basically, yes.”

Shisui nodded.

“It might not be true. Maybe, with enough work, you’ll be fine. But . . . every other case I’ve dealt with outside of Mist has been the same.”

“And the ones with you, at the beach, they all recovered completely?”

“Most of them. One or two did not. There are also different plants there, with healing properties. You need them fresh, they don’t travel well.”

“I see.” Shisui heaved a sigh.

Itachi glanced back at him, and Shisui offered an encouraging smile.

“It’s something to think about,” Aruku said softly.

“Yeah.” Shisui watched Itachi. He was effortlessly recreating Sasuke’s flip, and the child’s expression was half admiration and half irritation at being bested at his newly acquire trick. “I’m thinking.”

 

When Itachi came home that night – feeling hideously guilty because it was late, and he should have been home hours ago to say good night to Sasuke – Shisui was sitting innocently in the kitchen.

Itachi threw him a puzzled look. “How did you get here?”

“I walked.”

His matter of fact voice covered up the true intensity of the words, and for a moment Itachi just nodded. Then it finally hit him, and he stared. “You did?”

“Yeah.” Shisui smiled proudly. “After we finished swimming, Aruku told me to give it a try and see how far I got. Don’t worry, Sasuke walked with me. In case I got stuck.”

There was a slow smile curling at the corners of Itachi’s lips.

“I need a hug to celebrate this triumph,” Shisui explained, and the odd stirring in Itachi’s chest flared again.

“Alright.”

“But don’t move,” Shisui said quickly, as Itachi began to step towards him. Itachi stayed obediently in place while Shisui organized the crutches leaning against the table next to him, and gripped them firmly, pulling his body up and taking a moment to shuffle his centre of gravity around a bit before finally resting his weight onto his feet.

Itachi stayed still, trying to ignore the pounding in his chest.

With a look of concentration, Shisui moved first one crutch forward, then the other, rocked his weight onto his arms and dragged one foot forward across the floor, then the next, and repeated the motions. He stopped in front of Itachi – close enough that Itachi only had to lean forward for them to touch chest to chest – looking slightly out of breath, but bright and happy.

Itachi stared into his eyes, and they looked so light and alive, and the intensity of the odd feeing in his chest almost hurt – there was something he couldn’t explain between them, something that he couldn’t name. Shisui let go of one crutch, leaving it propped against his hip, so he could put an arm around Itachi and pull him close. Itachi leaned into him, taking in deep breaths. Shisui smelled clean, like pure water, like this was a chance for life to begin anew.

Standing there, with Shisui’s strong arm around him and his heart pounding, Itachi wished the moment – the _feeling_ \- could last forever.

 

It was a week later when Itachi heard the now familiar sound of Shisui walking – a plop of crutches, the slightly shuffled step of feet, repeat – and he looked up from his never-ending stack of paperwork as Shisui entered his office. (It wasn’t never-ending, he was just being dramatic. He had one more report to check and he was done, and he had in fact streamlined the entire process with such terrifying efficiency that he was done more often than not by lunch time each day, provided he wasn’t out on a mission.)

“Do you want to get lunch together?” Shisui asked in lieu of a greeting, leaning his weight heavily on his crutches.

“I can in a few minutes.” Itachi made a few notes. He glanced up at Shisui.

His friend’s usually relaxed and carefree face was slightly hard, determined and stoic.

“Is everything alright?” Itachi asked.

Shisui stared at the floor. He seemed to be thinking hard, planning something, and Itachi waited guardedly. After a moment, Shisui looked Itachi in the eye, shoulders squared.

“I want to go back to Mist with Aruku,” Shisui announced.

Itachi nearly dropped his pen. “What?”

“You know what I need. Mist is right next to the beach, I need that ocean. Itachi, I’m not going to get better here.”

“But you _are_ better-“

“No,” he sounded firm. “I’m not. This isn’t better this is just less crippled. And that’s not enough for me.”

Itachi stared at him, lips slightly parted, as though he needed to say something, but he didn’t know how to.

“I don’t want to leave you,” Shisui said. “It’s gonna be hard. But it’s something I have to do.”

“When?” Itachi asked faintly.

“Aruku’s leaving tomorrow.”

It felt like a hammer blow to the gut. Itachi was stunned. He couldn’t fathom weeks – maybe more – without Shisui. How would life go on without him? He was Itachi’s most steadying force.

“I’ll miss you,” Shisui said, dark eyes hooded and filled to the brim with some sort of emotion.

Itachi was still shell shocked, sitting rigidly still. He felt cold, a feeling of sick dread twisting in his stomach, and he didn’t know why. It shouldn’t matter. He should be fine without Shisui. But it did matter, and he didn’t know what made it so important, and that made him feel worse.

“I’m sorry if you think it’s the wrong decision for me, but I know it’s not. We have a dream to follow and right now I can’t follow anything. But when I’m back, it’s you and me. Against the whole world.”

“When are you coming back?” Itachi asked, voice trembling slightly, afraid of the answer.

Shisui’s frown was fierce. “When I can run back.”

 

“You’ll miss me, won’t you, kiddo?” Shisui asked, ruffling Sasuke’s hair.

The boy ducked away from him, bottom lip sticking out petulantly, and he tried to fix his hair. “Probably not.”

“Aw,” Shisui made a face. “I’m hurt.”

“Maybe I’d like you more if you didn’t mess with my hair all the time.” The unspoken but incredibly audible _and didn’t steal all my time with my brother_ was conveyed with a quick glance towards Itachi and a lingering look of disdain at his older cousin.

“Well, I’ll miss you,” Shisui said, not at all affronted by Sasuke’s apparent hostility.

Sasuke ‘humph’ed, but he allowed a shy smile, secretly pleased by Shisui’s statement. Shisui might be like an incredibly annoying older brother, but he had still been an integral part of Sasuke’s life for years, and it would probably be strange without him underfoot all the time.

“You’re not walking the whole way, are you?” Itachi asked suspiciously, standing a few feet back in the doorway to their house with one hand on the doorframe, as though he needed the support, and keeping his eyes resolutely away from Shisui’s.

“No,” Shisui assured him. “Just a bit, then we’re taking a boat. I’ll be fine. Stop looking so worried.”

Itachi’s gaze remained firmly on the floor.

Shisui sighed. With a plop, and a heave, he stepped closer to Itachi, balancing himself so he could reach one hand out to lay on Itachi’s shoulder.

“Hey,” he said softly, waiting for Itachi to look at him. It didn’t happen, and Shisui slid his hand further up Itachi’s shoulder, until he cupped his cheek, thumb under his eye, and was able to tilt the younger boy’s face up. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not going forever. I’ll be back before you know it.”

His voice was soft silk, and Itachi’s dark eyes stared into his, something desperate lying unsaid within them. Shisui waited, to see if he would say it – whatever it was, it looked important, and Shisui felt an odd twist in his stomach. But, Itachi stayed silent, pulling back a step and breaking Shisui’s hold on him.

Itachi swallowed, eyes down again and avoiding Shisui’s gaze. “Be safe.”

Whatever secret Itachi held, it was staying with him for now. Shisui nodded, even though he was certain Itachi wouldn’t see it. “I will.”

There didn’t seem to be much else to say after that – and even if there was, Shisui was certain Itachi wasn’t interested in hearing it. So he just stepped back, arranging his weight more comfortably, and turned around. He was meeting Aruku at the gates. He had hoped Itachi might walk that far with him.

“Good bye,” Shisui said quietly, and Sasuke, sensing some dramatic change in the mood around them, whispered it back. Shisui waited, looking over his shoulder at Itachi. Itachi looked up, finally, dark, shining eyes meeting Shisui’s, and then he turned abruptly and vanished into the house.

Sasuke turned uncertainly to Shisui.

“Look after him,” Shisui said gently.

Sasuke nodded. “Okay.”

With one more glance back – just in case – Shisui began his slow progress away, through the Uchiha compound and towards the gates of Konoha.


	9. 8 - Step by Step

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shisui gets a montage and the boys try to figure out their feelings

“I was in Mist for a mission, once,” Shisui said, wishing he could stop for a moment to wipe the sweat off his face. But Aruku had said there would be no stopping. Shisui was not going to break that rule. “But I never went as far as the ocean.”

“You can see it once we get beyond these cliffs,” Aruku said, gesturing to the landscape around them. They had been walking for what felt like hours – and it probably had been, Shisui was just too exhausted to keep track anymore. The journey had felt endless, days of shuffling through Konoha’s surrounding forests, days of unsettling, undulating boat travel, and now days of schlepping through Mist.

Shisui’s shoulders ached. It wasn’t the walking, it was the pace Aruku had set. And his back felt like it was on fire, the healing wound at the base of his spine was burning with every step. The only good thing Shisui could make from all this was that, with his arms starting to feel like useless noodles, he was definitely carrying more of his weight on his legs. Which seemed good, but he was certain he was going to regret it tomorrow.

“I know you want to stop,” Aruku said. “But we aren’t going to, not until we reach the end of the cliffs. Once you see the ocean, you can rest.”

“Okay.” Shisui agreed a little breathlessly.

“I know it’s hard, but I need you to push yourself.”

“It’s fine. I can handle it.” He needed to be healed quickly. Itachi’s crestfallen face was still at the forefront of his mind. He needed to get back to Konoha as fast as he could. And he didn’t care how hard it was, or how much it hurt, because he had to get back to Itachi soon – and he didn’t know why it felt so urgent, but it did. It felt as though it was the most important thing he would ever do in his life. As though the world hinged on being with his cousin.

He had settled into a rhythm, focusing on the pull and push of his muscles, the strain his body was undergoing, and so he didn’t notice immediately when Aruku stopped. Shisui scrambled to a halt, suddenly feeling his crutches sink into thick sand, and he realised the air smelt salty not just from his own sweat.

“Now, you can rest.”

Raising his head, Shisui looked out at the view before him. The cliffs gave way to a valley; a steep, sand and jagged rock path leading down to a wide expanse of white sand. The beach was a crescent shape, with a smattering of small huts far in the distance against a backdrop of towering rock.

The ocean reached for miles, roaring and endless, a deep blue that melted into the sky at the horizon, so it became near impossible to tell where the ocean ended and the sky began.

“Wow,” Shisui breathed.

“Here,” Aruku said, smiling fondly at the sparkling, rolling water, “You will learn to run again.”

 

Itachi had his arms folded on his desk, and his head resting on them, a downcast and pathetic look on his face. He didn’t bother to sit up when he felt someone approach his office; he knew the chakra signature and he didn’t really care to uphold appearances around her.

Izumi knocked politely on the closed door, and when Itachi grumbled, “It’s open,” she entered the office, looking contrite.

“I’m sorry to interrupt when I know you’re busy.”

He wasn’t that busy; he was emulating a paper weight.

“I just wanted to check on you.”

“I’m fine.” He spoke into his folded arms, eyes on the surface of his desk.

“I saw Sasuke today. We passed while he was on his way home. He said you’ve been a bit down.”

Itachi lifted his head to stare at her. Well, how exactly did she think he was going to be, when his best friend had left him for an indeterminate amount of time?

“Do you want to come out for tea?”

“No.”

Izumi sighed. “Itachi, I’m sorry Shisui’s away, but you can’t spend all your time in here moping about it. Sasuke told me you’ve been coming home late every day since he left. What have you been doing?”

“Training. And work.”

“Please do something for yourself. You’re allowed to spend time with people who aren’t Shisui.”

“I have a clan meeting tonight,” Itachi said. “So I can’t go out now.”

It sounded like a dismissal, and Izumi didn’t miss it. She nodded, with a slight sigh. “Okay. I’ll leave you alone. But please don’t spend the whole day pining.”

He wasn’t pining, he was thinking. They were very different things. But instead of explaining that, he let his head fall back onto his arms and just stared blankly ahead until Izumi left.

She went to visit Sasuke afterwards, concerned that the young boy was spending so much time alone, since Itachi was clearly dealing with some . . . stuff . . .

Sasuke answered the door brightly enough, looking cautiously pleased at a visitor. By now, he and Izumi were quite well acquainted, and he liked spending time with her. She was patient with him, and never seemed to run out of time for him.

“Since I’m here anyway,” Izumi said, smiling at the boy, “And I know Itachi isn’t home until late tonight, do you want me to make you something for dinner? I’m a pretty good cook.”

“Sure,” Sasuke agreed with a shrug, but he looked happy at the suggestion. He sat on the kitchen table, drumming his heels against one of the legs, while Izumi started to cook. And in the manner of most children, when prying eyes were off him and occupied by other things, he began happily chatting about life and its intricacies.

“How is Itachi doing?” Izumi asked this cautiously, wondering if the younger brother would be as prickly about the question as his older brother.

“Hmph,” Sasuke made a huffing sound of annoyance. “He says he’s ‘fine’.”

Izumi could hear the air quotes around the word.

“But he’s always ‘fine’, even though I know he’s not. I know these things, you know,” Sasuke added. At Izumi’s nod, he continued, “But since Shisui’s left, it’s been annoying.”

“What’s been annoying?”

“Itachi.” Sasuke frowned. “He ignores me, mostly. That’s what’s annoying. Because Shisui’s more _important_ ,” the word left with mouth with a surprising amount of vengeance. “He’s the only one Itachi worries about anymore. He never worries about me.”

“I’m sure he does.”

“Well, he doesn’t act like it. Since Shisui left he’s hardly spoken to me at all, and when we had our special afternoon he just wanted to come home and do nothing.” Sasuke had acquired a rare movie night out of the event, but that wasn’t what he was focused on. He was busy ranting, as small people do, about his brother’s behaviour. “Do you know, I got my report from school, and I got everything perfect, and he hardly even cared? He’s annoying when Shisui isn’t here.”

He sounded more depressed than annoying, but Izumi didn’t think Sasuke would appreciate the distinction.

“I just want us to have fun together, but he never wants to have fun. He just works, and sits in his room, and plays with his stupid plant.” Sasuke threw an exasperated look at the Peace Lily, which was sitting innocently near the kitchen door enjoying the sunlight. It had grown considerably in the past few weeks.

Sasuke whispered his next sentence, so softly Izumi almost didn’t catch it. “Even Dad used to care when I brought home my report card.”

 _Oh, boy_ , she thought. _Itachi, you better snap out of it, because your brother is not happy with you._

“He’s sad a lot,” Sasuke added blandly. “He thinks I don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?”

“How sad he gets. Sometimes he won’t get out of bed. But maybe that’s because he’s tired. He doesn’t sleep a lot.”

“How are you doing?” Izumi asked, carefully keeping her tone neutral and her expression off the boy.

“I’m okay.” Sasuke shrugged. “I like school. I like being busy. Night time can be hard, because Itachi’s not always asleep, but he thinks I am.”

“Aren’t you?”

“I don’t have nightmares. I don’t.”

Izumi nodded understandingly. “Of course you don’t.”

“Itachi wakes me, that’s why I know he’s not sleeping. But I don’t wake up because of bad dreams.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” She decided that agreeing was best. Sasuke was trying hard to look brave.

“He seems happier when you visit,” Sasuke ventured. “You should come over more often.”

“I will certainly try to.”

“Also . . .” Sasuke fell suddenly quiet, and Izumi paused to hear him, wondering what had made him so shy suddenly. “When supper is done . . . could you . . . pack me a lunch for school tomorrow? I have a lot of homework, so I don’t have time to do it myself.” He added, in a voice so soft Izumi would have missed it if she hadn’t been waiting for it, “Mom used to do it for me.”

She closed her eyes against the faint burning that started there. _Poor boys_ , she thought. They were both so lost, and neither wanted to admit it. They were both trying so hard to look strong. “Tell you what,” she said, turning to face Sasuke with a bright smile. “I’m not very busy this week. How about I make you lunch every day for the rest of the week?”

Sasuke’s face brightened up. “Would you?”

“Of course. I enjoy it.”

Sasuke beamed. “Thank you. I’d like that.”

She breathed an internal sigh of relief. Well, that was one of them cheered up. It seemed a pity the other was so hard to please.

 

In the manner of most meetings with the clan, Itachi assumed there would be problems to deal with. So he drew in a deep breath, hoping it would grant him patience, and asked flatly. “Are there any complaints?”

To his vast and unabating surprise, although there was a murmur in the crowd, there was no real voice to be heard.

He blinked, feeling stunned. Surely, the most unpredictable and volatile clan in the Leaf had a list of problems that Itachi needed to attend to?

“No complaints from the police department,” Inabi spoke up. “New recruits have been doing well, and things have been very settled between the Police and Anbu. I assume that is thanks to you.”

 _Probably_. “I’m glad to hear its going well.”

“I haven’t heard anyone talking about us in the Leaf, not in a bad way,” Tekka supplied. “I receive all the Police complaints, and there have been none that have been concerning. I don’t know if anyone is reporting anything suspect about us to the higher ups . . .”

“They are not,” Itachi said with a small nod. “Those complaints would go through me.”

“Are you sure they aren’t going around you?” Yashiro asked darkly. “Maybe the Leaf is still plotting against us, they’re just keeping you out of it.”

“There is no corruption and no conspiracy in _my_ Anbu,” Itachi seethed. “And the implication that I might be hiding something from all of you is also unfounded. It has only been a few months since the cancellation of the coup, and so far, there has been nothing but improvement – for everyone. This clan – _my clan_ – is fully integrated into the Leaf, and the council holds no ill will towards us.” _Provided I’m at the reins, and keeping you all in check_ , he added silently.

While it was true that the council did not suspect the clan of another coup any time soon, Itachi was under no illusions that that fact was due only to his involvement. If he were out of the equation, he doubted the council would have been so willing to dismiss the planned behaviour of the Uchiha.

But he kept that to himself, because it wasn’t relevant and there were still a few Uchiha – like Yashiro – who were frustrated by the bloodless revolution. Itachi didn’t need anything poking the hornet’s nest. As long as he was in charge, everything would be peaceful.

There was not much to discuss after that, and the meeting ended soon. Itachi left them mingling – he really wished Shisui was home, he needed someone close to his own age to interact with at these things – and began to walk home thoughtfully, half his attention on the starry sky above.

“Itachi,” Yashiro called after him, following him out into the night.

Itachi paused, and turned to face him.

“You’re an opinionated little arsehole,” Yashiro said, sounding grudging. “But you’re doing a good job.”

“Thank you.” He spoke softly, not flattered nor insulted by the statement, but politely acknowledging it.

“Your father would be proud.”

And that made him pause again, partly pleased and partly suspicious, because why would Yashiro ever feel motivated to give him a compliment? It had never been a secret that Yashiro disliked him, he had since the day Itachi was born, although the boy was unsure of the reason.

He decided to just nod, and move on. Although he filed the interaction away in his mind, carefully labelled ‘out of character, likely ulterior motive’ as he continued his walk home.

He was almost home before being interrupted again, this time by a much more welcomed interruption.

Izumi was sitting on the porch outside, clearly waiting for him. He resigned himself to more chitchat, and sat down next to her.

“Sasuke’s feeling ignored.”

He had to give her credit, she got to the point. “I’m doing my best. I had to attend tonight’s meeting. I explained to him that I would have more work going forward, and he was prepared to face those consequences. He is being dramatic.”

“He says you’ve been unhappy since Shisui left.”

Itachi stiffened.

“I know you want him to come back, but Sasuke is here _now_ , and he needs you.”

“He means more to me than anyone else in the world,” Itachi said. “I’m doing my best with him. I do not need outside interference.”

Izumi sighed. “Okay. I’ll go home then.” She stood up, but then paused. “We should go out for tea sometime. You never seem to take a break.”

“No one ever seems to give me one.”

“Tomorrow, then. Bring Sasuke. And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Itachi let out a soft snort. “Fine. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Izumi smiled brightly. “Good night, Itachi.”

“Good night.” He watched her leave, then sat back a little and watched the stars overhead. He wondered if Shisui was watching them as well.

 

The air smelled like salt and sand, and Shisui felt it lift through his hair, the wind whipping strongly, the sky dark with clouds and heavy with rain. He flexed his fingers against his crutches, jaw set determinedly.

“You see that rock out there?” Aruku pointed to a small rock jutting out the sea, jagged waves licking against it. It looked miles away.

“Yes.”

“You’re going to swim to it.”

Shisui raised an eyebrow. If he even tried that, he was going to drown.

“Not today, but soon. For today, we’re going to work on getting your chakra flowing normally through your legs again. I’ve been blocking the flow while we’ve worked on physical therapy. Once I unblock it, it might sting a little.”

“Kinda like when it ‘tingled’ in the hospital?” Shisui eyed him suspiciously.

“Yes.”

He sighed. “Okay, great. So, hours of stabbing pain.”

“On the bright side, it means the sensation is returning.”

Shisui rolled his eyes and replied dryly, “Fantastic.”

 

“You can run, you can walk, you can crawl, but today you’re going to go from here to the end of the beach and back.” Aruku always made it sound like he wasn’t handing down impossible tasks.

Shisui raised a doubtful eyebrow. “Right.”

“Leave your crutches here.”

“Leave my what?” Although Shisui had been waiting, _agonising_ for the day Aruku requested that, it still hit him hard. He wasn’t sure if he was ready. He wanted to be ready but . . . reality was still reality.

“You don’t need to learn to depend on them.” Aruku held out a hand expectantly.

Shisui wordlessly handed both crutches over, already feeling his legs quiver with the strain, or maybe that was just nervous anticipation.

“You have until the sun is directly overhead,” Aruku said. “If you have not returned to me by then, you will have failed the mission for the day, and I will fetch you, with your crutches.”

It was more than a challenge. It was an ultimatum. Fail this, and you are done. Fail this, and the recovery is over. Fail this, and you will have failed to bring your body back to where you want it.

Fail this, and you might never return to the Leaf.

Shisui, however, was stubborn, and determined, and unwilling to give up.

By the time midday rolled by, Aruku paused in his mediation, feeling with his chakra for Shisui’s whereabouts, expecting the young shinobi to be stranded somewhere and in need of help to get back. He opened his eyes to be pleasantly surprised by the sight of the Uchiha less than two metres away, currently on his knees and unable to do much about it, with his chest heaving and the sweat dripping down his body.

But his incredibly self-satisfied smile was enough to banish the deep ache throughout every muscle.

“I did not think you would be able to complete this task,” Aruku admitted.

“Yeah,” Shisui said hoarsely. “Well, don’t underestimate me.”

“I certainly won’t.”

 

The tasks got harder. Aruku pushed for more. He pushed for more than Shisui thought he was able to give. The tasks seemed insurmountable at times.

“Swim the beach twice.”

“Walk the beach again, the soft sand only.”

And when Shisui thought the impossible had already been asked of him, Aruku asked for even more.

“Today, you will swim with your right arm tied behind your back. Tomorrow, your left.”

“You will jog the beach this time. Three times.”

“Swim to the rock. Then, walk back along the water.”

But each task came with its own challenges, its own triumphs. It didn’t matter how much he ached, and how badly his back hurt, or how he could often need days to recover in between, with shaking muscles and a quivering body that could barely sit up, never mind stand.

It was brutal, but Shisui was not afraid to do what was asked of him. And he was determined, because each triumph was a step closer to home. A step closer to Itachi, and Shisui wanted that more than anything. He wanted to get back to Itachi so much the intensity of it hurt sometimes.

“I’ll be home soon,” he made his promise to the vast, empty ocean, body wet and dripping, muscles aching, but standing tall and strong. The wound on his back was nothing more than mottled scarring and a small indentation that would never go away. “Wait for me, Itachi.”

 

Itachi watered his lily carefully, and made sure the smaller leaves were turned towards the sun. It was mid-afternoon, and in a few minutes he was leaving on a mission for several days. He wanted to make sure the lily had enough sun while he was gone.

Sasuke had said good bye that morning, after enduring a long, tedious speech from Itachi about how much to eat – amongst various other things - while he was gone. As though Sasuke was going to starve himself. Izumi had received an even longer lecture about looking after him, which seemed thoroughly unnecessary, but she didn’t interrupt once, understanding that Itachi needed to get it off his chest.

Itachi finished fussing with his plant, and stood up, admiring it a bit. It was growing bigger each week. He would need to move it to a larger pot soon. He was waiting for it to start flowering.

With a sigh, he turned away. Life felt so dull without Shisui. The house was morbidly silent, with Sasuke out and Shisui away. Too quiet, and Itachi wanted some noise back. Some life back.

 _I miss you_ , he thought, going through the house and gathering what he needed. _When are you coming home?_

He had a burning confession in his chest he needed to get out, something incredibly important that Shisui needed to know. He hadn’t put it into words yet, because it terrified him. And there was the fear that Shisui wouldn’t think the same, wouldn’t feel the same. Wouldn’t want the same.

Itachi had been trying to convince himself to ignore the feelings, the thoughts, the absolutely mad conviction. But they had lodged into his being, unable to be cast out, and now it was all he could think about – important words unspoken between him and Shisui. Words he needed to speak, but desperately wanted to keep hidden.

“What am I meant to do with myself?” he muttered. _Why can’t I get these thoughts out, and why are they here in the first place? It’s ridiculous, I’m over reacting._

His thoughts were out of control, and it felt like his sanity was spinning away with them.

The moment he returned from this mission he was learning to meditate properly. Maybe then his mind would stop spinning mad fantasies.

 

Sometimes odd life epiphanies could hit you when least expected it.

Like when Shisui was what felt like miles from the shore, with cold sea water all around him and out of breath, his whole body aching but blessedly moving, and the notion fell upon him like a ton of bricks.

He was in love with Itachi.

The next moment he was underwater, tossed the wrong side up, and feeling absolutely baffled because where the hell had that thought even come from?

He broke the surface, taking in a deep breath. The sea was not rough, and he turned onto his back, limbs spread wide, and just floated, squinting against the harsh sunlight and trying to figure out what wire in his brain had tripped and was setting off odd declarations that made no sense.

Except . . .

It did make sense.

It made too much sense, and Shisui didn’t know why.

Because it was true, it had been true for years, but he’d ignored it because of course he loved Itachi, that was his best friend and cousin, and they’d loved each other for years.

Except.

Now it was different. He realised he loved him differently. This wasn’t cute little puppy love. This wasn’t even the tender protective love, like he felt for Sasuke. It wasn’t the quietly satisfying love he felt for his village and his clan. This was a different kind of love – one that burned and was suddenly scorching in its intensity, and had he been standing he was certain he would have been knocked to the floor by it.

He wondered when it had started. Sure, there had been little things. Like the thrill he felt when Itachi aimed one of those rare, peaceful, and completely genuine smiles at him. Or the need to be close to him, the moments where they lay side by side cherished and craved. There had often been the odd tingle in his chest when he watched him, when Itachi squared his shoulders and spoke with absolute conviction. And there had been the queasy spinning in his stomach when they trained sometimes and he was watching Itachi move – but he assumed that was common sense because could anyone watch Itachi move without feeling moved themselves?

But no, all this led him to the conclusion that the manifestation of his love, the end goal of his love, for Itachi had changed. It had changed into something far more potent.

“I’m in love with my best friend,” he whispered to himself, and it didn’t sound silly at all. It sounded horrifyingly normal. But yes, he was. Something in the world had shifted, and his feelings had shifted with it.

And it brought with it a sudden rush of warmth, that started deep in his belly and spread throughout his whole body, and he laughed out loud. It was a giddy feeling, being in love. Everything made sense, life made sense.

“I love Itachi!” he yelled out to the empty ocean, and he then he grinned like a dork. He wanted to shout it out again, he wanted everyone to know. It was so freeing to have his brain finally admit it.

It should have felt like it had come from nowhere, but he knew it hadn’t. And if he was honest with himself, his body had probably decided he was in love with Itachi many, many years back.

With a deft twist of his body he was swimming again, the dorky grin still in place.


	10. 9 - A New Threat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally getting to the good stuff, the slow build is over.

“It’s our afternoon,” Sasuke wailed, “You’re not supposed to do _anything_ on our afternoons.”

“I’m sorry, Sasuke. Maybe next time.” Itachi purposefully avoided looking at his little brother, focusing instead on snapping his Anbu armour into place. “I have a mission.”

“But this is our time.”

“I can’t turn a mission down.”

Sasuke pouted. “I think you can. You’re the boss, you assign the missions now.”

Itachi paused.

“You’re doing it on purpose.”

Itachi slid his sword into place on his back, before finally turning to look at Sasuke. The boy’s face was creased in an angry frown. He sighed. “I’m not doing it on purpose. It’s part of my job.”

“You’ve been avoiding me ever since Shisui left.”

The truth stung, and for a moment Itachi was rendered speechless. Sasuke’s burning dark fury did not abate. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

Sasuke’s pout increased tenfold, but Itachi wasn’t looking. He left the house, keeping his attention off Sasuke, because it hurt, having Sasuke look at him like he was betraying the young boy. He was trying his best, but some things took priority.

This was one of them – because this mission might be life or death to the village.

Itachi had noticed the curious masked man the day before, spotting him on a routine patrol, and had been keeping a careful eye on his movements throughout the day, fixating on his chakra. He knew this man, he had encountered him once before, many years ago. That was why he needed to know what was going on, because this man was not to be trifled with. This man was no idle threat, and had no business near the Leaf.

Many years ago, Itachi had been paralysed in fear at this man and his palpable power. Now, he flickered into the open outside of Konoha, not hiding in the least, and waited for the masked man to turn around. He flared his chakra lightly, feeling the other’s and taking stock of it.

He was a powerful shinobi, of that Itachi had no doubt. Very, very powerful.

“My, my, how you’ve grown,” the masked man chuckled, turning around slowly. “Last time I saw you, you were just a little thing.”

“What are you doing here?” Itachi asked, ignoring the useless banter.

“Inspecting your defences.”

Itachi tensed.

“I must say, you’re doing a marvellous job. You knew I was here the very instant I touched your borders. I know you’ve been watching me. I could feel you doing it.”

“You are not welcome in this village.”

“You don’t even know what I want.”

Itachi’s eyes narrowed. “Then what do you want?”

There was another, wry chuckle. “Why . . . I want to see the Leaf fall. So a better one can take its place.”

There was a barely perceptible change in Itachi, just the smallest tightening of every muscle as he processed that statement, and coolly evaluated its validity.

The masked man watched him calmly.

 _Why attack the Leaf_? He thought, anger bubbling below the surface. _It’s a suicide mission at best – it’s my village. And why tell me; you’ve lost the element of surprise now._

“I might not attack today, or tomorrow, or even next week. It might be years . . . but I will. This village will fall.”

“Not on my watch.”

“Well, then,” Itachi could hear the smile curling at the man’s lips, “I suppose you’ll be the first on my list to get rid of.”

Itachi glowered.

“Or, I could just incapacitate you, and make you watch while I destroyed the village you seem so fiercely protective of. I could start with your clan, with your friends, with those under your command. And then maybe your little brother -“

“Touch him and you will die,” Itachi snarled, eyes sparking into red, the bubbling anger rising to irrational levels.

“Don’t get excited now,” the man warned. “But I am curious. You’ve felt my chakra. You’ve been watching me. So tell me, if it came to that – to saving your brother from certain death – would you be able to kill me?”

“It’s not a question of whether or not I could kill you,” Itachi bristled. “I will kill you.”

There was a terse silence. The masked man seemed to be contemplating something. Finally, he spoke. “We will meet again. I hope you haven’t lost that determination, but know this. If we fight . . . you will never defeat me.”

Itachi’s deadly red eyes narrowed. He held eye contact, unafraid, chakra flaring. “We’ll see about that.”

With a nauseating swirl, the masked man disappeared, chakra snapping away and nowhere within range.

Itachi took a moment to calm down, still livid, with his heart pounding. _No one_ , he thought darkly, _will attack my village, or my brother._

He would increase defences. He would increase patrols. He would not allow this man within spitting distance of his brother.

“I know your chakra now,” he muttered to the empty air. “You will not sneak by me. Ever.”

He turned for home. _Take me on, and you’ll lose._

_I’m building my own world._

_And you will not be in it._

The forest was utterly silent.

 

Shisui had one final task.

“See that cliff?” Aruku pointed upwards, to the tall, imposing rock face that looked over the little beach.

“Yup.”

“I want you to climb it. And jump back down. If you can land safely, without injury, then I know you have been healed properly. And then, only then, can you run home. But if you try it before you’re ready, you will hurt yourself. You may cripple yourself again, and this time it may not be curable. So, think before you act. Do not be hasty.”

Those words sat in his mind weeks later, as he sat upon the little rock far out in the ocean, his skin almost dry from the sun, one leg bent, the other curving over the rock, and an arm resting upon his raised knee. He studied the cliff, taking note of the best path to follow.

“This is all that’s left to do,” he whispered to himself, to the wind that ruffled his hair and dried it into salt-stiff peaks. “And then I’m home.”

 

“Hi, Sasuke.” Izumi interrupted his walk home one afternoon.

He smiled at her. “Hi.”

“How are things going at the Academy?” she asked, falling into step beside him.

Sasuke’s smile faded. “It’s going okay, I guess. I can do everything.”

“You don’t look very happy about that, though,” she ventured carefully. She was getting used to dealing with the two Head boys, and while gentle prompting was usually the way to get Sasuke to open up, she still hadn’t figured out how on earth to get Itachi talking freely.

He shrugged. “The teachers keep . . . keep mentioning my brother. Like I’m not good enough. He was always ahead.”

Well, that was true. Izumi knew it well. Itachi had overtaken her many years ago. “Does that bother you?”

“Yes.” Sasuke pouted slightly. “They’re always saying how he was better, and learnt things faster, and did everything better than I do, even though I’m the best in class.” He kicked at the ground as he walked. “It’s like I’m perfect, but that’s still not enough, because he was always better than perfect. I’ll be better, one day,” he sent a quick glance at her, gauging her reaction. “I’ll be better than him one day, and then no one will say that about me again. No one will compare us again.”

 _Poor Sasuke_ , Izumi thought. _He’s being overshadowed_. “But Itachi’s proud of you. Doesn’t that count for something?”

“Maybe . . .” Sasuke sighed. “I should hurry home. If I’m late, he complains. Nii-san doesn’t like it when I’m late. Says it worries him.” He gave her a short wave. “Bye, Izumi-san.”

“Good bye, Sasuke,” she watched him run off, feeling slightly uneasy.

_I’ll be better than him one day, and then no one will say that about me again. No one will compare us again_

She made a mental note to talk to Itachi about that. Sasuke was starting to sound slightly resentful. She hoped things between them wouldn’t change.

 

The sunset had taken the sounds of birds with it, and Itachi breathed out a sigh, not moving from his meditation position. He was trying to put the masked man into the back of his mind. He was trying to erase the flood of anxiety that came when he thought of him.

 _I will protect the Leaf_. He had a plan, he had a goal, he had a dream. And he would do anything for his village.

Hokage.

The thought had been in his mind since he was very young. He had never mentioned it to anyone else, but it was a logical step in the dream. He needed to be Hokage, because then the Leaf was safe. If he had influence over the entire village, he could guide them to peace. He could guide the other villages to peace. He could maintain that peace, because the decisions would all be his. It was a monumental task, and he wanted to file it away for now, revisit the idea when he was stronger and ready.

He tried to focus on the forest instead. He enjoyed listening to the birds, and had absently tracked them as they moved around him, but now the forest was silent.

There wasn’t a whisper, just the desolate loneliness that had moved into his heart months ago, settling behind his ribs and nestling against the unspoken feelings for Shisui which he had tried to push aside and ignore. But now that he had thought about it again, the feelings surged forth, nullifying the afternoon’s meditation.

Itachi stood up soundlessly. The sky was grey, that strange twilight hour after the sun had faded but before the stars peeked out. He was about to trudge home when he felt a flicker, a _something_ , and he stopped curiously, chakra expanding to feel the area and determine what had caused a ripple in his calm.

For a moment, he searched suspiciously for some sort of genjutsu, fully believing that the sight in front of him, that the figure standing a distance away, was an illusion. All he needed was half a second, a quick flash of red eyes, and that told him everything he needed to know.

It was real.

Shisui was real, and there, and _home_.

Itachi stood rooted to the spot, the feelings he had hidden away suddenly rearing up, and something within his body stirred wildly. The moment felt suspended in time, too short and too agonisingly long, and then Shisui was right in front of him, standing and strong and Itachi continued to just stare.

“I missed you,” Shisui whispered, raising a hand to brush Itachi’s long hair from his face. “So much.”

There was so much laid bare in his eyes, relief and pride, and blatant love, and it made Itachi shiver slightly. His heart thumped in his chest, threatening to burst out, with terrifying devotion, and, looking at Shisui, it was so glaringly obvious that he felt the same.

Exactly the same, and the relief of that was staggering. Itachi wanted to mention that, to throw the words out where Shisui could see them, hear them, taste them, but as usual, Shisui was one step ahead of him.

“I love you,” he said, looking into Itachi’s eyes with nothing but brutal honesty. “I realised that while I was away. And that’s what you wanted to say to me, the day I left, wasn’t it?”

Itachi nodded mutely. Then, he decided to throw self-control away, and closed the distance between them, hands coming around Shisui’s shoulders to drag him possessively close, and he surprised himself by being the one to press his lips against Shisui’s, hard and fierce and in place of the words he was meant to have spoken.

Shisui returned the kiss with fervour, pressing back and laying his body flush against the younger boy’s, having waited so long and just _wanting_. Itachi’s grip tightened, dragging Shisui another impossible step forward, and he had to take one step back, his back hitting a tree. With the effort of staying upright taken care of, Itachi tangled both hands into Shisui’s hair, pulling him away just enough to stare into his eyes again, to see that coveted confession laid bare inside them.

Lips parted, breathless, Shisui stared at him for a moment, before descending on his neck in a series of hot kisses, heart jumping when Itachi let loose a contented sigh and let his hands fall to grip onto Shisui’s shoulders.

 “Shouldn’t we talk about this?” Itachi asked breathlessly, shoulders heaving against the rough bark of the tree, and wondering if maybe there needed to be some sort of conversation surrounding this new behaviour.

Shisui lifted his mouth from Itachi’s neck just long enough to look him in the eyes. “Do you have anything you need to say?”

“No . . .”

“Right, then. All sorted.” His lips were smiling against Itachi’s skin as he felt the other hesitate, then nod, and when Itachi’s grip on his shoulders did not loosen, but tightened, Shisui felt a new wave of thrills surge through him. He pressed forward eagerly, skin tingling with the contact, and situated his hands on Itachi’s hips, fingers gripping hard onto the delicate bone that could be felt there.

He continued his pleasant assault, sighing gently against Itachi’s skin as the younger boy’s hands slid down his back, the fingers of one hand resting over the old wound.

When Itachi’s fingers pressed delicately into the little dip in his spine, there was a jolt though Shisui’s body and he involuntarily jerked forwards to escape it, body pressing hard against Itachi’s. With a sharp intake of breath, he raised his head, staring at Itachi. There was a glimmer of interest in the younger boy’s eyes at Shisui’s reaction.

“Okay, we need a rule,” Shisui said, lifting his weight off Itachi slightly. “No touching that spot, it makes my leg tingle weirdly and it hurts.”

Itachi pressed his lips together. He nodded.

“But,” Shisui continued, “That’s the only spot off limits. You can touch everywhere else.”

Itachi raised one eyebrow, not in doubt but in clear interest at that statement.

“Oh yeah, one more thing,” Shisui grinned. “You didn’t say if you loved me or not.”

Itachi gave him the driest look he could muster. “You know I do.”

“Yeah, but-“

Itachi cut him off, one hand gripping into Shisui’s hair to drag him down for another kiss, the other pushing into the dent in his back, and Shisui jumped forward again with a startled noise, body lurching involuntarily to escape the pressure. He jerked free from Itachi’s mouth. “Little shit. I told you not to do that.”

“I’m Head of Anbu. I don’t take orders; I give them.” And _god damn_ if that wasn’t the hottest thing Shisui had ever heard from him.

Shisui kissed him again, grappling for Itachi’s hands so he could pin them above his head, against the tree. Itachi tested Shisui’s grip only once, then pulled a leg free, hooked it around Shisui, and yanked him closer, bodies pressed hard together.

“I’m starting to think you missed me too,” Shisui said, sounding out of breath.

Itachi leaned his forehead against Shisui’s, eyes closing and breathing open mouthed. “So much.”

“Did you think it would be like this?”

“I had a few different ideas.”

“Such as?”

“Less clothes. Less talking.” Itachi’s dark eyes flicked open.

“Hm,” Shisui pressed a warm kiss to Itachi’s neck. “Will you show me?”

Itachi didn’t reply. But Shisui thought the forward thrust of his hips and forcing his hands free got the point across fairly well.

 

When Itachi came home that night, he stopped on the porch to check on his Peace Lily; there had been a single bud growing on it and he was watching it carefully.

It had opened while he was out that day, one white flower facing the moonlight.


	11. 10 - Rise Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things start heating up a bit.

One little quirk Itachi had was his insistence to study things. He couldn’t stand being half educated on any sort of subject. He went out of his way to constantly learn new things. And he was a very, very good student. He could study something for hours.

Normally, it didn’t bother Shisui, because he could just leave and do something else, and come back to see if Itachi had moved. But right now, it was bothering him a little (read: a lot): Because the object of Itachi’s latest detailed perusal was Shisui.

“Is this going to take much longer?” Shisui finally asked, because he was tired of lying still, and Itachi was driving him absolutely insane – and the young Anbu _had_ to have noticed.

“I’m busy.” Itachi replied simply. He traced two fingers down the centre of Shisui’s bare chest, stopping at the bottom of his sternum, and just looking at the path of skin his fingers had taken. He had started what felt like hours ago, propped up on one elbow, with two fingers pressed in wonderment to the side of Shisui’s arm, tracing the lines of tight muscle, slowing working his way around Shisui’s torso, touching everywhere.

“You’ve been busy for ages,” Shisui said, and he couldn’t help squirming, feeling trapped and bothered, edging further up Itachi’s bed, stopping only when the bright Sharingan eyes of his cousin snapped to his. He let out a tense breath, whole body wired and alert. “You must be done by now.”

“You look different.” Itachi’s fingers changed direction, smoothing around the lines of Shisui’s abdominals, looking enraptured as those muscles rippled unconsciously at the feather light touch. “You didn’t look like this when you left for Mist.”

“Well,” Shisui said, trying to distract himself, trying to pretend all the blood in his body wasn’t pooling obviously in his groin – his pants were starting to feel uncomfortably tight. “I wasn’t lying on the beach the whole time, you know. I did a lot of work.”

Itachi had always been the leaner of the two, slim and soft curves, his body still looking young and flowing seamlessly from muscle to muscle. Shisui, now, looked different. He looked broader, every muscle more defined, layers of tight flesh covered in skin just a few shades darker than Itachi’s.

And it was fascinating. He was closely contained power, a new type of strength visible, and Itachi wanted to learn every curve, every ridge, every movement. After a moment of consideration, he bent his head down, pressing his lips to the hard line down the centre of Shisui’s stomach.

“That’s it, I’m done.” Shisui grabbed his shoulders, flipping him onto his back and leaning his full weight against Itachi, hips pressing forward insistently. “I’m done being teased by you.”

“I wasn’t teasing,” Itachi murmured, red eyes staring to the side, where his fingers moved to grip the suddenly tense muscles of Shisui’s upper arm, gripping lightly and _feeling_.

“You are.” Shisui leaned down to give Itachi a quick kiss on the lips, because he could do that now. He could do anything he wanted. Itachi kissed back eagerly, body flexing underneath Shisui, and it felt so good and so familiar, like they had done it a thousand times before. Like they belonged together, fitted together.

Itachi wanted more of it, of this bright movement, this thrilling moment. His hand slid down Shisui’s side, onto his back, still learning, still feeling, mentally counting off each muscle.

“Stop counting,” Shisui ordered, barely bothering to lift his mouth off Itachi’s.

Itachi’s reply was whispered right into his lips. “I’m not.”

“You are. I can feel you counting.”

“I can feel you breathing.” It was a breathy reply, drenched in wonder. The hand on Shisui’s back pulled suddenly, crushing them closer together, laying them flush with burning points of contact, lips, chests, stomachs, groins. Itachi slid his hand lower, finger tips finding the little dip in Shisui’s spine.

Before Shisui had a chance to protest, he pressed into it lightly, and it elicited exactly the reaction he had been wanting; Shisui jutting his hips forward against him, and it felt like all the blood in his body rushed to one place. Itachi felt slightly dizzy.

“Arsehole,” Shisui groaned, laying his face against Itachi’s shoulder. “I told you not to do that.”

“I know.”

“I swear, I will tie your hands up if I have to.”

In response to that, Itachi shuddered slightly under him, an anticipatory reaction that Shisui made a mental note to explore upon later. Later, when his thoughts weren’t so scrambled and his blood running hot and he could feel every short breath Itachi took underneath him. Later, when Itachi hadn’t pulled a leg free and hooked it around one of Shisui’s, pulling them even closer together, and they were both hard, he could feel it.

Shisui pressed a kiss to the warm skin under his lips, whispering under Itachi’s ear. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes.” He was hot and insistent, clouding out all thoughts except those about them, together, now. He flexed his body again, pressure in all the right places to make Shisui’s breath hitch.

Shisui tried to get his leg free, but Itachi remained very firmly as he was, and Shisui lifted his head, his dark eyes looking into Itachi’s bright red ones. “Could you let go?”

“No.”

“I’m noticing some things,” Shisui said, kissing Itachi hard, and grabbing the hand that was moving to the dent in his back again, gripping Itachi’s wrist firmly and pulling it away. “You’re a real jerk during sex.”

There was a crooked little smile on Itachi’s face, and Shisui wasn’t going to lie, that made his heart beat faster and he felt his lower half twitch a little. Jerk or not, Itachi was still beautiful, eyes bright and intensely focused, settling into a rhythm of hips pushing up, leg pulling down, muscles flexing, because he clearly had the leverage _he_ needed.

Shisui managed to match his rhythm, and the moment he did Itachi let his head roll back slightly, eyes closed and mouth falling open. “Fuck,” Shisui groaned, because it felt like he had been waiting for this, ever since that ridiculous epiphany in the ocean, waiting to have Itachi just like this, finally free of all his tense inhibitions.

He moved his face to Itachi’s, capturing his lips again. The wrist he was holding onto tensed, Itachi’s hand closing into a fist, and his other hand wound into Shisui’s hair, holding him close, impossibly closer. Their breaths were coming shorter, bodies faltering slightly in their rhythm. The leg Itachi had around Shisui pulled a bit harder, more urgent.

Shisui watched in abject fascination as Itachi scrunched his eyes closed, swallowing once, a slight whine in the back of his throat. Shisui might have missed the sound entirely if he hadn’t been listening for it. But he was listening, and watching, and feeling, so he didn’t miss it when Itachi’s whole body tightened, movements paused for a moment, breath even stilled. And after a few seconds, Itachi relaxed, letting out one open mouthed shuddering sigh.

Shisui finally threw Itachi’s leg off him, the younger one now unresisting, so he could continue with his own haphazard grinding, somewhat annoyed at the delay – a mental note was being made; Itachi was a selfish prick – and to his everlasting delight Itachi squirmed under him, an involuntary squeak escaping from him.

He tried to get out from under Shisui, obviously feeling hyper sensitive and over stimulated, but it was Shisui’s turn to be selfish – he was so close, it wouldn’t take much longer anyway – and he pinned Itachi by the shoulders, swallowing back a grunt, hips still thrusting forwards.

Itachi gave another full body shudder, and that was apparently all Shisui needed to be driven over the edge. In a moment of inspiration – and pettiness – he leaned his head down, biting onto Itachi’s neck, and really hoping it would hurt.

It ended up hurting more than he thought.

With his body lax and boneless from orgasm, he didn’t even attempt to move when Itachi threw an irritated punch at the side of his head.

“Ow,” Shisui couldn’t help but laugh. He hid his chuckle in Itachi’s neck, pressing an apologetic kiss to the mark on pale skin.

“You started it.”

“Is it,” Shisui asked between breaths, “Always going to be an argument?”

“Probably,” Itachi replied in a long exhalation. His eyes darkened to black again, looking peaceful.

“So that wasn’t technically sex,” Shisui said, flopping onto his side. “But I’m counting it. And the tree.”

Itachi shifted onto his side as well, dark eyes on Shisui’s chest. He reached a hand out, finger tips brushing against Shisui’s skin.

“Not this again,” Shisui groaned.

“You interrupted me,” Itachi replied, managing to sound both childish and offended, neither of which he had a right to. He began his slow tracing anew, and Shisui let out an exasperated sigh. Itachi didn’t even glance up at him.

Shisui watched him, absolutely loving the look of rapt fascination on the younger boy’s face as he traced and learnt every curve and ridge of Shisui’s body. He was quietly studious, taking in each detail, committing it to memory, and Shisui couldn’t help the feeling of warmth that spread throughout his body.

He hadn’t realised how much he wanted – needed – Itachi until they had been pulled apart, and how much the genius meant to him. Itachi had an ethereal quality about him, something special, that Shisui loved and adored and wanted to keep around himself for ever.

Itachi finally noticed the silence, and looked up at Shisui’s eyes, looking slightly anxious. “Are you alright?”

“Never been better.” Shisui replied in a low voice. “You were all I thought about while I was away. All I needed. I think I’ve been in love with you for years and just didn’t realise it. I told you years ago that being your friend was worth it. Worth everything. And you are,” he edged a bit closer, their foreheads almost touching. “You’re worth the world to me.”

Itachi said nothing, but there was so much swirling in his ebony eyes, keeping them locked onto Shisui’s. So many emotions Shisui couldn’t give a name to.

“I’ll follow you anywhere,” Shisui promised. “Lead the way, to your world, your dream, and I’ll be there. Through anything. Through everything.”

“I don’t intend for my life to run smoothly. Not if I’m going to do what I need to do. I know it’ll be hard. These last few months have been so difficult. And there’s so much more that I need to do.”

“You don’t have to do any of it alone,” Shisui said. “I’m right here. It’s you and me, forever.”

He reached out a hand, laying it across the back of Itachi’s neck to hold him still, hoping Itachi would understand just how much Shisui meant this, that it was the complete truth. Unwavering, undeniable, irrefutable truth. Because Itachi was too young to have been through all that he had, and Shisui felt he owed him at least a little bit of comfort.

“Itachi,” he said seriously, pausing to ensure he had the younger’s full attention, before stately plainly, “I love you.”

Itachi just nodded, moving closer to bury his head in Shisui’s chest. His hand wandered to Shisui’s arm, fingers still tracing his skin carefully. He did not speak, but Shisui didn’t expect him to. Itachi was always hesitant with words, with expressing emotions, and Shisui knew better than to push. Itachi would speak when he was ready. But his actions had already given Shisui the answer he needed – because Itachi would have never allowed anyone that close to him, to see him that vulnerable, if he didn’t love them unconditionally.

Itachi’s eyes were still locked on Shisui’s chest, even at such close quarters, mouth moving slightly as he went through the names of every muscle, every bone. His breath was still slightly uneven, coming down from the high of what they had done.

Shisui wanted to hear him moan again. And again. He caught Itachi’s wandering hand, shifting his body forward so they were pressed flush again, and kissed Itachi hard. Taken off guard, Itachi tried to pull away – “Stay put,” Shisui murmured. “It’s fine.” – but he remained stubbornly silent.

At least, until Shisui pushed him onto his back again, nudging a knee between Itachi’s legs and moving a hand to grip the back of his neck. Then he let loose a groan that Shisui caught in his mouth, and _yes_ , this was exactly what he wanted.

All the pain, all the struggles, all the heart ache, all the distance and time . . . It had all been worth it.

 

“Oh,” Sasuke sounded slightly suspicious as he entered the kitchen the next morning. “You’re back.”

“Hey, kiddo,” Shisui beamed. “How’re you?”

“I’m fine.” Sasuke sat down as far away from Shisui as he could. He glanced at Itachi, who was quietly making breakfast. “I have a test after school today. I’ll be home late.”

“What time?”

“I don’t know. When it finishes.”

Itachi hesitated. “Make sure you’re safe.”

“I always am,” Sasuke did not hide the slight exasperation in his voice. He paused, then added, “I’m going to beat the record for that test.”

“What test is it?” Shisui asked.

Sasuke threw him a look. “Target practice. We need to hit all the targets in the playground in the fastest time. So far, the record is-“

“Thirty seconds,” Itachi put in.

Shisui raised an eyebrow. “That your record?”

“Yes.” Itachi looked at Sasuke. “I know how to get it down to twenty-five.”

“I don’t need your help, I’ll figure it out myself,” Sasuke said irritably. After a moment of tense silence, he turned dark eyes up towards his brother. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.”

“It’s fine. I won’t interfere.” Itachi looked guarded, though, unsure of where Sasuke’s irritability was stemming from. They remained quiet, until Sasuke finished breakfast and stood up to leave. He kept his eyes down, gathering things without a word, and crept out the house without a good bye.

“Are you two okay?” Shisui asked, watching Itachi’s solemn gaze.

Itachi didn’t answer. He left the kitchen soundlessly, getting his mind focused on the day ahead.

Shisui got up to follow him. “Itachi. Wait.”

Itachi went into his room, eyes away from his cousin. “Sasuke will be fine. He’s just overwhelmed.”

“Is he?” Shisui asked critically. He folded his arms over his chest. “Or are you?”

Itachi finally glanced back at him.

“You’ve got a lot going on,” Shisui continued. “The clan, and Anbu, and trying to keep your family together. Are you coping?”

“Yes.”

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

“What do you want from me?” Itachi asked, somewhat irritable at the implication that he couldn’t run the entire world single-handedly.

“I want you to take a moment to figure out what’s going on. I was away for months. Did you look after yourself in that time? Did you and Sasuke spend every moment you could together?”

And that was a nerve touched. “I tried,” Itachi snapped. “I’ve been trying the whole time, but there are _other things_. I’m trying to keep him safe. I’m trying to protect him, but there are people outside this village who are threats and I need to keep things _safe_.”

“Why is he angry at you?”

“He doesn’t like it when I’m working,” Itachi mumbled. “But if I’m not working, I can’t keep him safe.” The masked man existed, and made Itachi’s whole world unsettled. “I can’t lose him.”

He met Shisui’s eyes hesitantly, voice shaking slightly. “I don’t know what to do.” Shisui was the only person in the world he could admit that to, the only one he trusted enough to reveal this to. “Shisui, I’m so scared to lose him, but I feel like I’m going to because I don’t know what to do with him.”

He wanted to spend time with Sasuke, he wanted the world to go back to what it was, but there always seemed to be something stepping in the way.

Shisui sighed softly. There was nothing he could do to help with that. “Just . . . try not to worry too much . . . Things will work out.”

Itachi looked at him, expression unreadable. After a pause, he spoke quietly, “I have to go.”

“Okay.” Shisui let him leave without protest. “Just remember, you have to look after yourself as well.”

Itachi’s reply was a soft murmur from deeper in the house, but Shisui heard him. “That’s why I have you.”

 

Itachi wandered through the compound, heading for the Police Force. Things had been very quiet – and it made him suspicious. He didn’t expect things to be running so smoothly, and he wanted to know why it had been going like clockwork there. He felt like something was being hidden from him, and he was going to find out what.

Inabi, one of the heads of police, was standing outside the building, gazing into the distance and clearly deep in thought.

_About what?_ Itachi wondered. He cleared his throat softly. “Inabi.”

“Itachi,” Inabi greeted him with a small smile – it looked forced. “What brings you here?”

“Just checking up on things,” Itachi replied, glancing at the imposing structure of the Police Force building.

“Everything is fine,” Inabi assured. “We’ve told you that.”

There was something in his tone that put Itachi on the alert, something suspicious about his words. Something that made Itachi pause, and consider, and ask carefully, “And you don’t have any problems that need my attention?”

“No.” It was a short answer, and Itachi recognised it for what it was - a lie.

He didn’t show any outwards signs, but inwardly he bristled slightly. _What is he planning? What is he hiding from me?_

The fact that there was a problem sitting right under his nose, one he knew nothing about, was already enough to ruffle his feathers. Itachi didn’t like the unknown, and he definitely didn’t like people keeping things from him. Especially his own clan.

“Alright,” he said after a moment of terse silence, while he mulled over possible scenarios, and Inabi stood before him with a sense of false calm around him. “I will leave then. Let me know if any problems arise.”

He had a feeling one would be arising rather soon.

Inabi nodded politely, and Itachi turned away from him, remaining alert for any extra clues. He didn’t leave immediately, but took a moment to study the shinobi around him, watching for anything that might help him.

Everyone looked normal, continuing their duties without protest. No one seemed to give anything away. Itachi’s gaze slid back to Inabi, who had moved to Tekka and was talking to him in a low voice. They both glanced at him, but looked away quickly when they saw him watching.

_I’m onto you_ , he thought bitterly. _Try anything, and I will know._

He began to walk away, only to have someone step into his path. Itachi’s dark eyes snapped upwards to see Yashiro.

“Itachi. How are you doing?” Yashiro greeted him jovially, and that was his first mistake.

_He’s trying to get closer to me_ , Itachi noted. _Wants me relaxed around him. Wants me to think he’s a friend_. His eyes narrowed slightly. _What are you planning_? “I’ve been fine.”

“We should get together sometime,” Yashiro said, the false friendliness still present.

Mistake number two. _You would never volunteer to spend time with me, and you have no reason to. Even you should know better than to give yourself away like this_. “I’m busy.”

“There are some things I’d like to discuss. About the clan. About the future. About . . . dreams . . .”

_That._ Itachi hooked onto the word, quickly piecing everything together. “I see.”

_You don’t like what I’m doing. You don’t like what I’m planning. You don’t want peace, you want to fight, to show off your abilities. Will you aim that frustration at me, or the Leaf?_

“There are a few of us,” Yashiro said slowly, and his gaze flicked unknowingly to Tekka and Inabi.

_At least three._ Itachi raised an eyebrow.

“Who feel as though some changes are needed.”

“As I said, I’m very busy. Perhaps next week would be a good time for us to meet.”

“It’s a rather urgent matter,” Yashiro said. “I know you’re busy but . . . I’m sure your father would have found the time . . .”

Itachi’s expression clamped down into a frown. Yashiro wanted him to be annoyed. He wanted to imply that Itachi was not doing his job properly. Not doing it well enough. He was being led into a trap, but he knew that. And if he already knew there was a trap, he was certain he would be able to negate it. “Fine. Tomorrow night.”

Yashiro smiled thinly. “Thank you. That sounds perfect.”

He sauntered past, clearly satisfied with the answer, and with successfully getting under Itachi’s skin. Itachi watched him over his shoulder, dark eyes still set in a frown. He took several steps away, and as he did, Inabi watched his progress.

Itachi turned his head away, walking with more purpose.

He was suitably annoyed now, because he knew they were planning something, he was just uncertain as to what it was. Yashiro had been dropping him compliments every now and again, and Itachi was certain that was to lull him into a false sense of security.

But why?

He didn’t like being uncertain. In an effort to gain some perspective, to clear his head, he made his way to the Uchiha Shrine. He and his father had visited it often, to talk about the future, about duty, and other topics that should have been too heavy for such a young child.

Now, Itachi stood alone, deep in thought, but feeling soothed. Here, it felt as though his father’s presence and calm wisdom were around him, for this had always been a place of quiet respect, a place to forget emotion and focus on fact – and Itachi liked that. It was important to be able to focus.

So it was not without some level of irritation that he felt the four chakra signatures approach him, because he didn’t want to fight here. Being followed was irritating enough, the fact that they had followed made him sure it was for a fight – because the meeting was scheduled for tomorrow night, and they felt they had caught him unprepared and off guard.

What they hadn’t factored in was that Itachi was never off guard, and was honed for a fight at any time – even if it made him want to strangle them for interrupting his introspection. _Well, at least I’ll learn what they’re planning._

“What do you want?” he sounded snappish, annoyed at having his quiet time interrupted. He turned to face them, eyes taking careful note. Yashiro was in front of him, Inabi moved to his left, Tekka and Yakumi – Itachi had rarely spoken to the man, but that seemed a moot point now - stood slightly to his right.

He recognised the attempt to surround him. It was a waste of their time, but he didn’t intervene. Their formation was enough to tell him their intentions.

Yashiro only confirmed it, stating plainly, “We will rise up, and the coup that you cancelled will go ahead.”

Itachi raised an eyebrow. _I doubt that very much._

“And we all know that the only thing standing in the way of this clan’s future is you. And your idiotic ideas. You’re soft, Itachi, and weak, and once you are gone from this clan, it can finally be as great as it was intended to be.”

Itachi stared at him blankly. He wanted to slap his palm across his face at the sheer idiocy of it.

“Are you really stupid enough to try to take me on?” Itachi asked, exasperated.

“You’ve done enough damage to this clan,” Yashiro said. “It’s time someone put you into your place. It’s time this clan stood up and moved together. Not living in the shadow of your naïve dream.”

“I order you to stand down,” Itachi said, his frown deepening. “Stop this nonsense.”

“If the way forward is through you,” Yashiro said, Sharingan blazing, “Then we will not hesitate to take that path.”

“If you make one move against me,” Itachi said, “I will kill you all, and your attempted revolt. You have a choice here. Either follow me, and leave the Leaf alone, or die at my hands, but I will not allow my name to turn on this village.”

“You’re idiotically naïve to believe peace was ever an option,” Yashiro snapped. “We are _shinobi_ , our world was never meant to have peace.”

“Then if I have to, I will eliminate every shinobi in _existence_ ,” Itachi snarled back, eyes firing to red. “Starting with you.”

The others moved to surround Itachi, movements wary, but without hesitation. Yashiro glowered at him. “It’s over, Itachi. You little bastard, if Fugaku could see-“

Itachi barely moved, blurring out of existence, his already phenomenal speed further fuelled by anger, and within the next moment all four opposing Uchiha were on the ground, doubled over and choking. Itachi stood in the centre of them, eyes narrowed. “Do not try to fight me. Next time, I will not leave you alive.”

“Bastard,” Yashiro choked out, struggling to his feet again. “I will kill you!”

“I’d like to see you try.”

Yashiro stood tall, looking down his nose at the much smaller Itachi. “You’re too young to see all the mistakes you’re making. Too young to know how foolish you are. Too young to lead a clan as great as this one – you are not the saviour you think you are, but our downfall.”

Itachi said nothing. He kept his eyes on Yashiro, at the same time feeling the chakra of the other three as they rose up, preparing to fight him. Without a word, he gathered himself, focusing, and the three tomoe in his Sharingan swirled together, melding into one three-pronged spiral.

Yashiro hesitated slightly, noting the change.

“Walk away,” Itachi said in a low voice, “And I will not make you suffer. Move against me, and the last thing you ever know will be pure agony.”

Itachi already knew what the outcome would be. He knew Yashiro was too stubborn, too misguided, too proud, to walk away. But Itachi wanted to give them every opportunity to repent, to think their actions through.

_I do not want to kill you_ , he thought, waiting for the heartbeat long moment that Yashiro took to come to his conclusion. _But I will, if it means protecting the clan and the village._

All four opposing Uchiha moved at the same time, synchronized and well-practiced, and had they been against anyone lesser than Itachi, the fight might have ended right there, with four sets of flung kunai sinking into flesh. But Itachi had already flashed away before the weapons were fully drawn, and the kunai clanged together with bright metallic sparks.

There was another heartbeat, while the four Uchiha tried frantically to locate Itachi.

The sky above them darkened, the world bled into red and black, and a looming full moon formed.


	12. 11 - Relaxing Can Be Stressful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter, but its got a lighthearted, fun ending.

The Hokage heaved a deep sigh. “I am sorry to hear of this, Itachi. I thought the Leaf and the Uchiha were once again allies. It seems we hoped for too much too soon. And as such, we now have four more deaths.”

“The four of them were conspiring against the Leaf,” Itachi said, bowing his head low. “I am sorry I allowed it to happen. There will not be another oversight like this. Ever.”

Hiruzen simply nodded. “It was an unfortunate event. But I must thank you for still protecting the village, even when it was difficult for you to do so. And please do not apologize. You are doing excellent work; I cannot complain. And of course, you have made sure the threat to the Leaf is gone, before it could become a problem.”

“It’s my duty.”

“It is still a difficult thing to do. But I wonder, how your clan will react to the news?”

Itachi suppressed a sigh. He had had the same thought. “Most of them are on my side. There may be a few that agreed with Yashiro. But I am confident that they will keep those notions to themselves after this. I will monitor them closely.”

He desperately needed trustworthy allies. The Police Force was closed off from him, he rarely had reason to interact with anyone of importance there. While the integration of other Leaf shinobi into the force had been going well, it was still largely controlled by the Uchiha, and Itachi needed someone inside to help him.

He wanted it to be Shisui. There was no one in the world he trusted more. And deliberately seeking out a non-Uchiha shinobi in the force to spy for him felt wrong, like a betrayal of trust to his clan. He wanted to avoid that if he could; he didn’t want to have an agenda against his own people.

Hiruzen was talking again, droning on about nonsense Itachi already knew. He endured it politely, mind swirling elsewhere. Inabi and Tekka had been joint Heads of Police. Their positions would need to be filled. His thoughts turned to the two surviving Foundation members. They were loyal to him now, unquestionably so, and he had put them into service in the Anbu. Maybe he should pull them out, and put them into the Police Force.

He was toying with the idea, weighing the pros and cons, when the Hokage spoke his name, and he looked up sharply.

“I know you avoid violence where you can. And I know that what you had to do today bothers you greatly, but please know this: The Leaf owes you a great deal. You have surpassed everyone’s expectations. Whatever dream you have, whatever path you wish to take, I fully believe you can achieve it. So let me know how I can help.”

“I will.” He replied simply, because he didn’t need help from the Hokage. He needed help from surrounding villages; the Leaf was already where he needed it to be. His Anbu were doing a fantastic job weeding out traitors, and word was spreading. Internal conflict within the village had dropped significantly.

He could tentatively describe the village as peaceful. Now it was time to take on the rest of the world.

Once dismissed, he went home, still mulling about the Foundation and what to do about the Police Force. He could get the clan to vote, and see who they thought would be effective in the position. He was wary about a vote, though, concerned it might make it look as though he had no idea what he was doing, and needed input and direction. He didn’t want to send that message to his clan, especially not following the demise of the clan’s second attempted uprising.

Not for the first time, he lamented being in a clan so inclined towards hatred and conflict. The traits seemed to have skipped him, but he worried over Sasuke; their history and genetics were strong and the boy was determined and stubborn. Would the same issues that had plagued his clan for generations surface again, just because of the name and the crest that Sasuke carried?

He sat down in his father’s old study, planning to spend some time meditating and trying to clear his head. The room still smelt the same as it always had, and it was soothing. It was familiar, like a comforting blanket around his frazzled mind. He inhaled deeply, thoughts focused inwards, on his breathing. He stayed like that until Sasuke knocked cautiously on the door.

“Yes?” he asked, opening his eyes.

Sasuke slid the door open, peering in at him in the dim light. “I’m going to bed.”

What is that late already? Itachi felt guilty. He hadn’t spent any time with Sasuke all day. “Alright. Did you eat supper?”

“Yes.”

“Do you need anything?” He hoped the question sounded alright, less like a demand and more like an invitation. There was still an odd tension between them, from the morning. He made a mental note to spend some more quality time with Sasuke. Right now, he was dropping the ball as a big brother.

Sasuke shook his head. “No, I’m good.”

“Good night, then.”

“Good night.” Sasuke withdrew, closing the door carefully and soundlessly.

Itachi let out another deep breath, eyes closing again, trying to get back into the state of calm he had achieved before realising he was a terrible older sibling.

The door opened again; Sasuke rushed across the space between them and flung his arms around Itachi’s neck, hugging tightly. Itachi’s body moved automatically to return the embrace, and it eased the nagging ache in his chest slightly, because he knew he was forgiven for the morning, and Sasuke still loved him. He held his brother tightly, unwilling to let the moment go.

Sasuke withdrew after a minute, keeping his face shyly down, and turned to run out the room again, thoroughly embarrassed with himself, and Itachi couldn’t help the fond smile that crossed his face.

 _Good night, little brother_ , he thought, the smile still in place. He continued his mediation in peace, until the next interruption announced itself in the form of Shisui, coming into the room, closing the door, and saying quietly, “Well, you had a busy day.”

“They attacked me.” He didn’t look up.

“I didn’t doubt that.” Shisui came to sit beside him. There was silence for a moment, before Shisui spoke. “So far everyone I spoke to was on your side. They’re enjoying the peace. There might have been a few comments about you being a trigger-happy bastard, but I think it’s very positive feedback in general.”

“Who called me that?” Itachi opened his eyes, wondering if he needed to be mortified at the descriptor, or just let it slide.

“Several people. If it makes you feel any better, Uruchi followed her comment with ‘But he’s doing what’s right for the clan’.”

“Thank you,” Itachi said dryly. “I feel much better now.”

Shisui leaned in to press a quick kiss against the side of Itachi’s mouth. “So, what are you thinking about?”

“I need to find a new head of police,” Itachi said, closing both eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache coming on.

“What about Izumi?” Shisui suggested. “You trust her.”

“She’s not experienced enough. I was hoping to convince you, actually.”

“Nope.” Shisui shrugged. “Itachi, I love you, but I’m not taking the job. It’s in the village only, and I’m more useful to Konoha out on missions than inside it. And I have other things outside that need my attention.”

“Like what?” Itachi lifted his head, blinking at Shisui’s declaration.

“Aruku and I have been talking,” Shisui said. “And I think I might want to go out to visit soon. He’s started a home, where he’s taking in shinobi who get injured and trying to help them. I want to help as well. And the Mist is a powerful ally,” he added. “It would be helpful to have them on our side.”

“I need your help here,” Itachi said. “Not in the middle of nowhere sunning yourself on the beach.”

“If it wasn’t for Aruku, I wouldn’t be walking,” Shisui pointed out. “I would be useless to you. To everyone. Is it so wrong for me to want to pay him back for all that he did for me? This is life changing, Itachi. The fact is, on your road to peace there will be casualties. We need to think about them as well.”

Itachi sighed. When Shisui put it like that, it made far too much sense. But still, he felt slightly selfish and protective. Shisui was _his_ , he didn’t want him in other villages, with other people, as irrational and ridiculous as the thought was.

“Have you considered,” Shisui began cautiously, “That maybe the police force has lost its usefulness?”

“What?” Itachi stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“The police force is meant to settle internal conflict in the village. But your Anbu are doing that job, quite well I might add. Would it really make a difference if the police force was dissolved into the village, and all conflict resolution fell to the Anbu?”

“The police force was formed,” Itachi began, sounding aghast, “To symbolize trust and peace amongst the village. You can’t throw away a symbol like that.”

“Are you holding onto nostalgia, or do you actually feel like it would make a difference?” Shisui asked. “We don’t _need_ a police force. And even if we did, conflict in the village has dropped since you started irritating the hell out of everyone to play nice with each other.” Shisui grinned. “I don’t think we really need it any more. Think about it.”

Itachi mulled for a few minutes. “I suppose . . . I could bring it up at the next meeting and see what the clan thinks.”

“Relax, I told you it’s going to be fine. The clan is fine.” Shisui took both Itachi’s wrists into his hands, looking earnestly into his eyes. “You worry too much.”

“I do not.”

“You do.” Shisui shifted forward, pressing his lips to Itachi’s, and noting with some satisfaction the way the younger boy’s eyes flickered closed. “All your meditating isn’t helping.”

Itachi made a slight noise of protest when Shisui pushed him onto his back, settling his weight over him and continuing to shower him with light kisses.

“Shisui,” Itachi sounded more annoyed than anything else. “I’m not in the mood. There’s too much to think about.”

“Then tell me to stop,” Shisui replied nonchalantly, moving targets to Itachi’s neck, and especially the sweet spot behind his ear. He paused, waiting to see if Itachi would speak. There was no reply to his comment but a soft sigh, and his next kiss was decorated with a smile. “Itachi?”

“Hm?”

“Want me to stop?”

“Hm . . .” It wasn’t a very specific answer.

Shisui lifted himself up to look at Itachi’s face. He was lying staring blankly at the ceiling, mouth slightly pinched in worry, but apparently not trying to escape Shisui’s ministrations. “Come to bed. You need to rest.”

“Hm.”

Shisui sat up, one hand tangling into Itachi’s and pulling him upright again. “Bed. Now.”

“Fine.” Itachi stood up, trying to extract his hand from Shisui and failing miserably. He allowed himself to be half dragged into his bedroom, and it was only once Shisui had closed the door that he let go of Itachi’s hand. Itachi raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t going to run away.”

“Can’t be too sure about these things.” Shisui replied breezily. He ushered Itachi into bed, silently cheering because it was hard to get Itachi to relax, and sometimes near impossible to get him to just go to bed at a relatively reasonable hour.

Sleeping, on the other hand, was the next challenge.

Itachi awoke abruptly only a few hours later, jerking into a sitting position, chakra flaring because he had felt something. He felt something familiar, and he realised what it was with a shudder.

The masked man.

He glanced at Shisui, lying still beside him. There was no way Shisui hadn’t woken when Itachi had moved, which meant he was choosing to ignore him. That was good, Itachi didn’t want to be followed, and he didn’t want to explain.

He got up, padding softly out the house after retrieving his weapons, and followed the familiar and unwelcomed chakra to the Uchiha shrine.

The masked man looked back over his shoulder as Itachi approached, and Itachi felt the odd feeling of rising anger, because this man was in his village, in his compound, and he didn’t belong. He was a threat, and Itachi wanted him gone. He had no reason to be here. Ever.

“You have been busy, haven’t you?” the masked man said, tone amused.

Itachi didn’t reply. He stayed perfectly still, eyes glowering red, ready to attack in a moment.

There was a short silence, then the masked man sauntered towards him, and moved casually around him, as though calmly studying the terrain.

“Poor, poor Yashiro,” the masked man said with a tone showing no emotion at all. “He had to die just for your silly little dreams.”

Itachi kept his guard up, keeping his eyes on the man as he circled the young boy, anger boiling under his skin.

“Did you do it because you enjoyed it? Killing can be so satisfying, if you do it right.”

Itachi growled, “Keep away from my village.”

“Such steely determination,” the masked man marvelled. “Do you even have a plan? Are you just chasing after a dream, with no idea how to catch it? Surely you’re smarter than that. Surely you have an idea of what you need? I know I do.”

It was bait. Itachi recognised that. It was a clear attempt to draw him in, to get him to ask ‘what?’, to get him involved in whatever madness brewed behind that mask. Familiarity was dangerous, though. Familiarity came at the cost of caution. So Itachi didn’t ask, he remained steadfastly silent, chakra humming and ready.

“We want the same thing,” the masked man said, silken tone trying to trap like a spider’s web. “We’re exactly the same, little Uchiha. We have the exact same dream. You’re just like me.”

“I am not,” Itachi snarled, and just like that, he was in the spider’s web. He was engaging, he was interacting, he was involved.

“Oh, but you are. Peace? It’s all I’m after as well. A world of peace, Itachi, we both want it. A world where children don’t have to fight, don’t have to die. Imagine, a world where no child would ever be in danger again. Isn’t there a child in your life that you want to gift this world to?”

“Shut up,” Itachi snapped. _Just shut up!_

“Don’t you want that?” the masked man was in his face, furiously close, voice dark and dangerous. “Don’t you want to look out the window one morning and know that you never need to fear for your brother’s safety again? Or know that you’ll never need to worry about that pretty girl you speak to not coming home from a mission?”

“Shut _up_ ,” Itachi snarled, unafraid, with Sharingan burning and locked onto his target.

“A world where it will never matter what happens to your precious cousin because he’ll never have to fight again, and he can never get hurt again. That’s why you’ll never succeed in your plan, because your dreams have fears inside them, fears you cannot control. Fear is a weakness, and you can only overcome your own weakness. But yours aren’t inside you, they’re outside where anyone in the world can take them – your weakness is your brother. It’s that little spot on your cousin’s backbone. It’s things you cannot control.”

“I will control it! I’ll protect them.”

“Not the way you want to change the world. Once you’ve lost everything, then you’ll see that I’m right. Then you’ll come looking for me. Then you’ll want my help, and we can paint the world my way. We want the same things, little Itachi. But your path . . . is going in the wrong direction.”

In a rare moment of uncontrolled passion, Itachi pulled his sword from on his back, one instant fluid motion, and brought it arcing into the man in front of him. There was no resistance, it was as though the blade cut only through air.

Before Itachi had taken a breath in, the masked man was gone. With his sword still drawn, Itachi extended his chakra, searching, but the enemy was nowhere near. He looked around cautiously, still on high alert, but his senses had never lied before, and he knew they weren’t now. He was alone.

There was no one else nearby.

He stalked home feeling irrationally angry, and he wasn’t sure at whom – himself or the mysterious masked man. It was long dark when he arrived, with only the moonlight to guide him. He stopped on the porch, his eyes on his Peace Lily. There was a single white flower on it, proud and regal, with another bud growing slowly.

He dropped to his knees beside it, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath. The faint scent of the flower reached him, and it was soothing. Another deep breath, and the aching tension between his shoulders eased.

 _We’re not the same_ , he thought. _We’re not. I want different things. I’ll get what I want._

He stood up again, returning to the house. He went first to Sasuke’s room, slipping in silently, checking up on his brother. Sasuke was sleeping peacefully, hair in disarray and face relaxed. Itachi smoothed his bangs back from his face, and left him in peace.

Shisui shuffled up obligingly when he returned to bed, eyes still closed and breathing steady. Itachi lay on his back, eyes open and mind swirling.

 _I’m not afraid_ , he thought. _I’m not afraid of anything. I will make the world what I want it to be._

He rolled onto his side, facing Shisui, and his land rested lightly on his cousin’s back, his palm over the little divot in Shisui’s spine. Was that fear? Did he fear that Shisui would get hurt again? Did he fear Shisui would never recover? His hand trembled.

Shisui made a questioning noise low in his throat, and turned his head to blink sleepily at Itachi. “You okay?”

“I won’t let anybody hurt you,” Itachi said, steely conviction in his tone.

Shisui smiled, eyes closing again. “I know.”

“You’re mine,” Itachi whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to Shisui’s shoulder. “And no one will take you from me.”

“You know,” Shisui mumbled, mind hazy with sleep. “Everything you say in the middle of the night sounds creepy as fuck.”

Itachi didn’t answer that. He cuddled in closer, pressing himself against Shisui, pushing his head under Shisui’s chin until the older boy lifted his head so Itachi could wedge himself in comfortably. Itachi didn’t fall asleep easily. There was too much on his mind. But at least, with Shisui surrounding him, his rapidly beating heart slowed, and he calmed.

The night passed with Shisui’s breathing the only sound.

 

“I’ve decided to abolish the Police Force.”

No preamble needed; Hiruzen already knew he had been considering it. This just made it official.

The council made no immediate comments. Eventually, Hiruzen nodded. “I see.”

“I feel that it has no need anymore. The Uchiha clan is fully involved with the village in all ways. Internal conflict has been handled by my Anbu division. I know the Police Force was originally founded as a way to keep the Uchiha clan under control and under surveillance by the village, but that is no longer necessary.”

“That isn’t why the Police Force was formed,” Koharu sputtered.

Itachi met the old woman’s gaze without hesitation. “Yes, it was. I hold no grudges against the Second Hokage and his decisions. I’m moving forward. And forward does not require the Police Force as an organization.”

Hiruzen nodded again. “You have done your research.”

“Always.”

“If you believe this is a viable course of action, we will allow it. So far, I have never regretted allowing you to do what you feel is best.”

Itachi nodded stiffly.

“Are there any other things you wish to discuss?”

“Several Police officers I would like to move into Anbu, under my control. The rest will be dispersed amongst the village to serve it however is best. I want to make two new teams in Anbu, and I need those teams approved by the council. I will assess their prowess and report back within the week.”

Hiruzen narrowed his eyes. “You seem anxious about something.”

“The village needs stronger protection,” Itachi said, the masked man at the back of his mind. “And protecting it is my job. I will not fail at my job.”

“I know you won’t. But you also need to relax sometimes. You work incredibly hard. Remember to take some time off when you need it.”

“Thank you, but I am fine.”

After a brief silence, Itachi added, “As Head of the Uchiha Clan, I will announce to them at the next meeting that the Police Force is being amalgamated into the village. Non Uchiha shinobi in the Police Force will return to their duties they had before joining the Force.”

“Konoha is in good hands, with your knowledge and skill.” The Hokage smiled. These little speeches irritated Itachi. They served no purpose and wasted time he could be using. He already knew he was a good shinobi, no one had ever shied away from telling him that. “Talent like yours has not been seen for some time.”

Itachi waited, not too patiently, for Hiruzen’s pointless drabbling to end.

“The council will support your decisions. We will wait for your reports on the Anbu.”

“Thank you.” He bowed, keen to make a quick exit before the old man could ramble on anymore.

Exiting the council room, he passed Kakashi, obviously on his way to report in on a mission.

“Hey, Itachi,” Kakashi greeted him warmly. “It’s been a while. Heard you’re still dealing with clan issues.”

“It’s been dealt with,” he replied shortly.

“And Tenzou says you’re adding new shinobi into Anbu. You really know how to keep busy.”

“Just doing what’s needed.”

“I know.” Kakashi grinned. “Over-achieving, micro-managing, the usual.”

Itachi said nothing. He eyed Kakashi, and the Copy Nin raised an eyebrow.

“Anything else?”

“I’d like to put you back into Anbu,” Itachi said directly.

Kakashi shook his head, a smile visible in his face. “Nah, I’m enjoying myself. Besides, Anko said you’re really pedantic about paperwork, and you know conforming just isn’t my scene.”

“You’d be a valuable asset.”

“Itachi,” Kakashi reached out a hand and patted him on the head. The gesture felt incredibly patronizing. “You’ve got enough shinobi to boss around without me there.”

Itachi knocked his hand away irritably. “You sound very condescending.”

“I can’t help it. Just take some time to chill once in a while. Anbu can be stressful. Go out for drinks with Shisui or someone. I’ll even take you out for drinks.”

“I don’t drink,” Itachi said firmly.

Kakashi shrugged. “Yeah, well, you need to relax occasionally. I’m sure you’ll find a way.” He moved past Itachi, ready to enter the council room.

Itachi almost rolled his eyes. He stalked rather irritably to his office, smoothing down his hair that Kakashi had barely disturbed. With new Anbu needing to be recruited, he would need to accompany them on a mission to see how they worked under pressure.

He needed to shuffle some teams around as well, and balance skills and strengths better. Every team needed to be equally skilled.

He figured if he was going to assess the new recruits he might as well reassess the entire Anbu. He was buried in papers, planning and making notes, and completely unaware of how much time had passed when a sudden interruption occurred.

He was jerked back to reality when his door was opened without warning.

“You need to relax,” Shisui announced, strolling into Itachi’s office.

Itachi sighed. “Is that the phrase of the day or something?”

“Why? How many other people have said it?”

“Two,” Itachi replied dryly.

“Then it must be true.” Shisui planted himself in front of Itachi’s desk with a smug looking grin. “I have planned a movie night. Then we can relax.”

“I have work.” A lot of it.

“You’re in charge, you can take time off whenever you want.”

“Which is precisely why I don’t. It would be an abuse of power, and furthermore set a bad example-“

“To whom? You don’t have _minions_ , Itachi, no one is watching your every move and praising your executive decisions. Take the night off. I already told Sasuke. You keep boasting about how your paperwork has been so efficiently streamlined it hardly takes any time at all.”

“I was out this morning on a mission. And I had a meeting with the council. There’s a lot I need to do.”

“And you were told to relax,” Shisui said. “I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer. Come home, we can have some fun, have something to eat, and then relax.”

“If you say ‘relax’ again I might actually kill you.”

Shisui leant forward, placing both hands on the desk and leaning over, close to Itachi’s narrowed dark eyes. “I will tie you up and carry you out of this room if I have to. Now, pen down.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Itachi realised his mistake the moment he said it, because yes, Shisui would very much dare. The words were barely out of the prodigy’s mouth before Shisui had flickered away from in front of him, and Itachi was only half spun around in his seat to defend when Shisui reappeared, grabbing Itachi’s wrist with the pen in it, somehow finding the leverage to haul Itachi up and out of his seat and throw him onto the desk, triumphantly straddling him. Papers flew everywhere.

Itachi planted one foot on the edge of the desk, pushing hard, and using his free arm to elbow Shisui in the stomach and slide out from under him. And be thwarted by an incredibly fast counter attack, with Shisui making a grab for his leg, changing his centre of gravity, and Itachi felt himself start falling off the desk.

Had he not been taking the time to catch himself, he might have rolled his eyes at Shisui’s childishness. In the second it took to fall, Shisui flickered off the desk, reappeared over him, and slammed a hand into the back of Itachi’s neck, pinning him to the floor and sitting on him. “Gotcha!”

“Seriously?” Itachi squirmed, but Shisui had both his wrists caught in one hand, and the other holding his head down, preventing him from getting any momentum. “How old are you?”

“Old enough to win,” Shisui said with a grin. “That was far too easy, you really need more practice-“

He was interrupted by a brief knock at the door, followed by it being opened, and Anko walking in, a few papers in her hand. She paused, staring at the sight before her. Shisui was smiling happily, and he would have waved if he thought he could, but letting go would probably result in Itachi’s escape. The poor boy glowered from the floor, looking absolutely livid.

“Looks like I interrupted something,” Anko said smartly. “Anything you boys want to tell me?”

“We’re having a movie night,” Shisui supplied.

“Yes, I can see that.” Anko walked to the desk, putting the papers down and then stepping back, dropping to a crouch to regard Itachi. “No rush on those, please continue with whatever you two are doing.”

“We’re not doing anything,” Itachi snapped, cheeks turning faintly red.

“Right.” She straightened up. “Have fun.”

“Want to join us for the movie?” Shisui offered, ignoring the frustrated growl from beneath him.

“No, you kids have fun. Hormonal teenagers are not my scene.” Anko waved as she left.

Itachi groaned. “I’m going to kill you. I’m going to kill you _in your sleep_. Slowly.”

“You know what you need?” Shisui said conversationally, moving one elbow to the back of Itachi’s head so his hand was free to fumble around his weapons’ pouch for some sort of suitable restraint. “To _relax_.”

 

Sasuke was excited for a movie night, since they happened about once every five years, but also wondering what events had led to it, since Itachi appeared to not be speaking to Shisui, and kept sending him death glares, and there were odd red marks around both of his wrists.

Knowing why, however, was probably not something Sasuke wanted to get into, so he decided to shrug it off and enjoy himself, cuddling aggressively into Itachi’s side in a moment of rare childish happiness, and throwing a smug look at Shisui when Itachi’s potent death glare banished the older boy to the other side of the room.

And Shisui made an interesting discovery half an hour into the movie. Itachi and Sasuke slept like the dead when exposed to film. He realised this when he got up to pee, and returned to find the two of them out like lights.

“Are you two asleep?” Shisui asked, sounding guarded.

There was no answer from the couch. Just two peacefully sleeping boys, Sasuke draped over Itachi and Itachi’s head propped up on the arm of the couch, hand limply over Sasuke. With a shrug, Shisui returned to his seat, and watched the rest of the movie in utter silence.

Once it was finished, he paused to consider his next move. Neither brother had moved.

“Well,” he murmured, reaching down to gather Sasuke in his arms. “The point was to relax. Mission accomplished.”

He lifted the young boy easily, blanket and all, and Sasuke remained dead to the world, not even twitching. Itachi, on the other hand, flinched as Sasuke was lifted. Shisui stayed still, barely breathing, until Itachi was still again. With careful steps, Shisui carried Sasuke to his room, laying the boy gently on the bed.

“G’night, kid,” he whispered. “Sleep well.”

He padded back to Itachi, considering his next move. Itachi might actually kill him if he picked him up and carried him to bed. Shisui wasn’t sure he wanted to take the risk. He rested a hand on Itachi’s shoulder, whispering, “Itachi? You awake?”

He got a rather delayed response; Itachi blinked his eyes open slowly, looking disoriented.

“You’re pretty cute when you’re sleepy.”

“Where’s Sasuke?” Itachi either ignored Shisui’s teasing jab or didn’t notice it – Shisui would bet either were viable options – sitting up and looking around as though to remind himself of where he was.

“I put him to bed. You two fell asleep.”

“Oh.”

“Come on,” Shisui tugged Itachi’s arm until he stood up. “You should get to bed, too.”

Itachi nodded, a slight yawn escaping him, and Shisui bit his lip to stop himself smiling like an idiot. _You’re adorable_ , he thought. He kept a close eye on Itachi as he wandered to his room, because the normally quick-fire shinobi looked a bit unsteady on his feet. But Itachi made it to bed without incident, flopping uncaringly down, eyes closed again.

Shisui slid in next to him, chuckling when Itachi burrowed into his side. “I thought you weren’t talking to me.”

“Hm.”

“Should I go sleep somewhere else?”

Itachi closed a hand around Shisui’s shirt, holding him down. Shisui just grinned, laying an arm over Itachi’s side, and closing his eyes. With a contented sigh, Itachi burrowed into Shisui’s chest, face pressed determinedly into the older boy’s shirt.

Shisui kissed his hair gently. “Please stop worrying yourself to death. You’ll get everything sorted out.”

Itachi made a grumbly noise into his chest.

“Go back to sleep.” Shisui smiled as Itachi relaxed against him, muscles finally becoming lax and soft. He waited until Itachi’s breathing steadied into its usual sleep pattern before he drifted off as well, content and happy.


	13. 12 - Trouble in Paradise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This and the next chapter are most character set up for later on; plot really gets rolling soon, I promise.

“Sasuke,” Itachi paused in his brother’s doorway.

Sasuke was getting dressed, and he threw a questioning look over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“I’ve got some things to do this week. I’ll be home late every day.” He hesitated. “On our day, too.”

“But you said we could have one day,” Sasuke protested. He pulled his shirt over his head with a bit more force than necessary. “You can’t be out on our day.”

“I need to reassess Anbu,” Itachi explained. “It will take a few days, I need to take each team out on a mission. I’m sorry, but it has to be done.”

“Because it’s more important,” Sasuke added petulantly. “Anbu is more important than me.”

“No, it’s not. It’s just something I have to do. Nothing is more important than you.”

Sasuke levelled a glare at him. “Sure about that?”

“Of course I am.”

“Because you know, since Shisui came home, you’ve been in a better mood. You make time for him, but not for me.”

That wasn’t entirely true, but there was nothing Itachi could say in defence to that. The only reason Shisui consistently got time with Itachi was because they were awake later into the night, when Sasuke was asleep.

“You never _want_ to spend time with me. You do it because you feel you _have_ to.”

“That’s not true,” Itachi protested. “I love spending time with you.”

“Unless something better comes up, right?” Sasuke finished dressing, stomping past Itachi into the house. “Your words don’t mean anything anymore. You never keep your promises.”

“I’m trying to protect a village.” _I’m trying to protect you._ Itachi followed Sasuke as the boy made his way determinedly to the front door, gathering his things for school. “Sasuke, we’ll spend time together, soon, I promise.”

Sasuke was pointedly ignoring him, sitting down and pulling his shoes on.

With a small sigh, Itachi conceded defeat and chose to drop the subject. “When will you be home today?”

“Does it matter?” Sasuke asked. “You won’t be here.”

“I just need to know. I need to know you’re safe.” He hesitated. “I need to know you’ll be alright, if I’m not here to protect you.”

He knew Sasuke was angry with him. He didn’t think the boy would try to hurt him on purpose. But, he did. With a glance over his shoulder, he snapped viciously, “Well, so far, you haven’t done a very good job protecting our family.”

 

“He’s just a kid,” Shisui murmured, one hand combing through Itachi’s hair. “He doesn’t mean it.”

They lay in the darkness together. Midnight had long since come and gone, but Itachi was restless and struggling to sleep. Hours of work with the Anbu today had been exhausting, but his mind refused to shut off and just let him rest. And his chest hurt, it hurt right where Sasuke’s words had pierced and lodged earlier.

“He’s right, though. And it’s all he’s seen. All he’s seen is me failing. I couldn’t protect them.”

“He knows you’re a great ninja. He knows you do your best. He’s just upset. Kids don’t really know what they mean at that age.”

“He knows what he means.”

“He’s just angry. And working the world out. It’s fine. You two will get through this. It’s just a bump in the road.”

“He’s angry with me, because I’m never there for him. I _want_ to be there – but there’s too much. I’m needed. And I should be able to do it all, but I keep getting it wrong-“

“Hold on there, Control Freak,” Shisui said, pressing a gentle kiss to Itachi’s hair. “You _are_ able to do it all. You’re the only person in the world who can. Look at all you accomplish in a day – you’ve got Anbu missions, and whatever nonsense you do in that office all morning, and if the clan needs anything you’re right there, and you still find time for Sasuke and for me. You are doing more than enough. Sasuke knows that – he’s just upset and doesn’t know how to deal with it.”

“I just want him to be safe, and happy.”

“I know. And I know you’ll find a way to do that, because you can do anything.”

 _Except be a decent big brother . . ._ “I don’t want him to hate me because I’m never around.”

“He won’t hate you.”

Itachi turned a bit, nuzzling into Shisui’s chest.

“Try to sleep.”

Itachi sighed. “I am. I can’t.” He leaned a bit more heavily against Shisui.

“Want me to tell you a bedtime story?”

“I’m not a child, Shisui.”

“It’ll help you sleep. At the very least, it’ll bore you to death.” Shisui waited for further protest. When he received none, he continued pulling his fingers gently through Itachi’s hair, and began, “Long ago, when the mountains still reached the sky, the people roaming the earth looked very different to how we look now. They had four legs, and four arms, and two heads, and were made of the sun, the moon, and the earth. And they were violent and dangerous, and didn’t know what love was . . .”

“This sounds completely asinine.”

“So are you, shut up and listen.”

 

Itachi was waiting outside for Sasuke to finish class for the day. He hoped this would make up for being out late the last few nights. And maybe make up for missing ‘their’ afternoon yesterday.

Sasuke came out, eyes down, looking brooding and less carefree than usual. He spotted Itachi, looking up in surprise.

“Hi,” Itachi smiled.

Sasuke did not smile back. He shouldered his bag a bit more comfortably. “Hey. You showed up.”

His tone was flat, and Itachi wasn’t sure what exactly it was supposed to mean. So he took a moment to think, analyse, and decide what to say next. Sasuke’s bottom lip stuck out petulantly.

“Itachi?” Iruka was walking towards them, smiling warmly. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.” He shifted his gaze off his brother somewhat warily, as though Sasuke might vanish if he didn’t keep a close watch on him. He didn’t feel very present.

“Can I talk to you?” Iruka asked, the warm smile still in place.

Itachi looked at Sasuke, silently asking. Sasuke plonked himself on a nearby bench, arms crossed over his chest, looking annoyed with the whole world. He threw an irritated look at his brother, then stared pointedly at the grass.

“Yes,” Itachi said. “It won’t take long, Sasuke, I promise.”

Sasuke didn’t answer.

Iruka led Itachi back inside in the empty classroom, closing the door. “Sasuke’s been a bit . . . out of character lately. I think it might be from whatever’s going on at home.”

“Nothing has changed at home.” Itachi said.

“I think he’s feeling trapped. Maybe a little overwhelmed. I know you love him dearly, but I think you might be part of the reason he’s been so upset lately.”

“Why?” Itachi frowned.

“You’re over protective,” Iruka said, because the direct route was always the best with Itachi.

Itachi half shrugged. It was hard to defend against that, it was probably true, but it wasn’t a bad thing, surely?

“You need to give him some space.”

Itachi felt like he had enough space; that was part of their problem.

“You need to let him make his own choices, and his own mistakes. You can’t keep hovering around him like you do now. I know you always want to know where he is.”

“I’m just protecting him,” Itachi said.

“That’s exactly the problem,” Iruka said, but his voice was kind. “You can’t protect him from everything. And if you try to, you’re not really helping him.”

“I said I’d look after him,” Itachi said, glancing towards the window. Sasuke was still sitting sullenly on the bench outside, staring at the ground.

“Think about what he feels,” Iruka said gently. “All he hears is how great you are, and how you were always ahead. Everyone keeps telling him he’ll never be as good as you-“

Itachi’s frown deepened.

“- And he’ll never catch up to you. If that’s all he’s hearing at school, what do you think it feels like hearing that at home as well?”

“I don’t . . . tell him anything like that . . .”

“Not in words, no. But by protecting him, sheltering him so much, your actions are telling him you don’t believe he can look after himself. Because he isn’t as good as you. He needs space to experiment and make mistakes, and get things wrong. I don’t think you’re letting him.”

“But . . .” Itachi looked worried. “If he hurts himself . . .”

“He’s a ninja. He’s going to get hurt. And the more you shelter him the more he’ll get hurt when he gets out into the real world.

“I think he’s getting angry at you,” Iruka continued. “Feeling like you’re trying to hold him back. Instead of trying to protect him from the world, why not teach him to protect himself? You won’t always be at his side to help him.”

 _Yes, I will_ , he thought, rather childishly. “I’ll think about it,” he muttered instead.

“Thank you,” Iruka smiled genuinely. “You’re doing fine, Itachi. You’re taking great care of him. Just remember to let him have a little freedom, too.”

Itachi just nodded, feeling a bit like a chastised child, but he knew Iruka meant well. He was a genuinely nice person. He went outside to Sasuke.

“Hey, Sasuke. Let’s go home.”

“Am I in trouble?” Sasuke asked, falling into stride next to Itachi.

Itachi missed the days when Sasuke used to hold his hand. “No.”

“Okay.” Sasuke seemed happy to let the conversation die there.

Part of Itachi was grateful for the silence. Part of him longed for when Sasuke would ramble non-stop.

“I’ve got homework,” Sasuke announced when they were home, slipping his shoes off and moving determinedly into the house. “I’ll make my own supper when I’m hungry.”

And Itachi just felt like he’d missed something, that his brother had grown up suddenly, without him noticing, resenting both his presence and his absence.

He was mulling over the conversation with Iruka when Shisui came home.

“Hey,” Shisui greeted briefly, aiming for the fridge.

“Do you think I’m over protective?” Itachi asked from his spot at the kitchen table, staring into his tea.

“Yes.” Shisui answered without hesitation.

“Well, you had that answer at the ready.” Itachi grumbled.

“Because it’s true,” Shisui came to sit down opposite him. “It’s not always a bad thing, but it’s definitely your thing.”

Itachi bit his lower lip. “But it is a bad thing?”

Shisui shrugged. “Yeah, kind of. Sometimes. I mean, I’ve noticed Sasuke getting annoyed with you. I think he’s feeling  . . . closed in.”

That echoed what Iruka had been saying.

“And I mean, you freak out when I get hurt-“

“I don’t ‘freak out’.”

“- I’m kinda worried about when Sasuke starts missions, I mean, you’re going to worry yourself sick. But, you know,” Shisui smiled. “That’s what happens when you’re an over achieving control freak.”

“Shockingly, this isn’t making me feel much better,” Itachi said dryly.

“Sasuke’s just a moody kid, he’ll be fine. But yeah, maybe stop micro-managing him. I mean, you always want to know where he is. He’s always got to tell you when he’s going out, where he’s going, when he’ll be home. Maybe he feels it’s unfair. You don’t always tell him when you’re coming home.”

“That’s different,” Itachi protested. “I can’t always tell when a mission will end. And I just need to know he’s safe. It’s not unreasonable.”

“Sasuke’s what, eight? Nine?”

“Nine.”

“Right. And what were you doing at that age?”

Itachi answered reluctantly. “Going on missions.”

“You’re a family of crazy geniuses – genii? – so don’t worry about him so much. Let him go play, and train, and stop panicking when he’s out of sight.”

With a reluctant sigh, Itachi mumbled, “I’ll try.”

“Where is he now?”

“He went to the shops. He won’t be too long.”

Shisui stood up, moving around the table until he was close enough to lay a finger gently under Itachi chin and tip his head back for a soft kiss. Itachi’s eyes slid closed – Shisui wasn’t going to lie, he loved that reaction. He drew back slightly to ask, “Want to take a shower together?”

Itachi’s eyes flicked open again, bright and uncertain, because that was something new, something they hadn’t discussed before. His initial reaction was ‘No’, because Shisui had caught him unprepared and Itachi didn’t like having things sprung on him.

But Shisui was watching him tenderly, looking gentle and sure. “It’ll be okay. I won’t hurt you.”

“I know that.”

“But you’re still worried.” Shisui pointed out. “Should I have given you written notification?”

And that made Itachi smile. He shook his head. “That’s not necessary.”

“Because I will, I’ll happily write you a letter of warning that I’m going to touch you weirdly in the shower.”

Itachi frowned. “How weirdly?”

Shisui straightened up with a wicked smirk. “Come and find out.” He held out a hand, waiting patiently.

At least two minutes passed in absolute silence, while Itachi planned, and pondered. But he met Shisui’s gaze confidently, reaching up to grasp his hand, and Shisui dragged him out the kitchen before he had a chance to reconsider and change his mind.

 

It finally promised to be a good day. Shisui was only getting home late, which worked in Itachi’s favour, because he was due to spend the afternoon with Sasuke, and there were few things Sasuke liked more than when Shisui was not around.

He had been spending far too much time on mundane tasks, including research on the mysterious masked man, trying to learn all he could, and he was looking forward to finally being able to take his mind off everything.

Only Sasuke mattered, and Itachi eagerly left his office, planning to meet his brother as he finished at the Academy. They didn’t have any specific plans, but he was sure Sasuke would have a suggestion. He was barely out the door before being interrupted.

“Captain?” The rough voice of one of Itachi’s masked Anbu shinobi stopped him in his tracks. Sugaru was a former Foundation member, lethal and quiet, and he never wasted words. If he spoke, it was with purpose.

“Yes?” Itachi tried to hide the sigh behind his words. _Please don’t let this be important . . ._

“You asked me to watch for the masked man. He is outside the gates. Closer than last time.”

There was a powerful flare of something in Itachi’s chest – fiery, unfamiliar anger. Itachi took only a second to plan a course of action. The village had to come first. “Send a message to Sasuke. I’ll be home late. I’ll take care of it.”

“Do you require my assistance?”

“No,” Itachi thought about that, but briefly. So far, the masked man seemed fixated on him. Bringing someone else along might change the dynamic. Itachi didn’t want to risk goading the man into a fight he wasn’t yet prepared for. “I’ll go alone.”

Sugaru nodded once, and was gone in a blur.

 _Sorry, Sasuke_ , Itachi thought, feeling somewhat bitter. _Next time_.

He flickered his way to the gates, locking onto the flare of now familiar chakra. And it made him bristle, because the man wasn’t even hiding it. He knew he could call Itachi to him on a whim.

“What are you doing near my village?” Itachi snapped. The cover of trees was obscuring his vision, but he knew exactly where he needed to look, and his glaring red Sharingan had already found the man’s chakra, leaning casually against a tree several metres ahead.

“Can’t I pay you a visit?” The voice was still the same, supremely confident and slightly mocking. “I just wanted to see if you’d upped the security around here. I need to know what I’m getting myself into.”

It was more than a threat. The masked man was waiting for something; Itachi didn’t know what. Was he raising his own army? Was he waiting until Itachi was away, or injured? Was there something else he needed? He was not trying to hide, at all, but Itachi didn’t know why.

Itachi resisted the urge to draw his sword. He stood patiently, until the masked man stepped into view. Itachi’s Sharingan snapped to the hole in his mask. He brought his anger under control. “Who are you?”

“I am Uchiha Madara,” the masked man explained.

“You’re not.” Itachi replied flatly.

The masked man drew himself up. “Then who do you think I am?”

“I know you’re not Madara. I know he’s dead. I don’t know who you are, but you are not him.”

“Such a clever boy, Itachi, but you’re wrong about this. I am Madara.”

“You’re not.” Itachi was calm, and completely certain about this. He had done his research, and he had access to everything. His position in Anbu and as Head of his clan assured that. “I will find out who you are.”

“Will you?” Itachi could hear the sneer behind the masked man’s words. “What if I killed you right here? You seem overdue for being put in your place.”

“Just try it,” Itachi snarled, Sharingan bright and at the ready. He did not attack first, though. He waited, because he wasn’t going to launch into a battle without a reason. He wasn’t going to instigate when he wasn’t completely sure what lay before him. He needed more information. His eyes burned slightly, reminding him, _Mangekyou_.

He held it back. He didn’t need it now.

“Killing you now is not part of the plan.” There was Sharingan gleaming through that hole in the mask. Itachi looked fearlessly into it. “I still have things I need to do.”

So Itachi was right about that; the masked man was waiting for something.

“But rest assured, little Itachi, I _will_ take you down. And there will be nothing you can do to stop me.”

“If you come near my village again, it will be the last thing you ever do.”

There was a dry chuckle from behind the mask. “Well, then, consider me forewarned. I won’t need to come near the Leaf again. Next time we see each other, your world will end. And mine will take its place.”

 

When Itachi returned, Sasuke was sitting sullenly at the kitchen table, staring at his food and prodding it occasionally, apparently not hungry. Itachi sat down opposite him, slightly hesitant when he didn’t receive a greeting.

“I’m sorry, Sasuke, it was important,” Itachi said apologetically.

“Everything is more important than me, isn’t it?” Sasuke said coolly. His voice was starting to lose it’s high pitched innocence. Itachi missed it, that naive forgiveness for everything he did. Now it felt like Sasuke was constantly keeping score – and Itachi knew he was losing.

Somewhat tentatively, Itachi offered, “No, this was just something I couldn’t ignore or put off. We can have our day tomorrow. I shouldn’t have too much to do, and Shisui won’t be-“

“Why do you never care about me anymore?” Sasuke’s voice rose.

Itachi froze in place, completely blindsided by the accusation. “But I-“

“Don’t even try to explain it,” Sasuke snapped, standing abruptly. “You never want to spend time with me anymore. It’s always Shisui this and Shisui that – like he’s the only one who matters to you.”

“But-“

“No! When he’s away you mope and sulk and act all depressed, and when he’s here then you’re all happy and stuff. But not when I’m around, then you ignore me and just try to avoid me. Everyone thinks you’re so perfect, but you’re not!” His voice cracked slightly.

“You’re not perfect, you suck at being a big brother. I’m so sick of everyone comparing me to you – that’s all anyone ever does, just point out how I’ll never be as good as you. I hate it!”

“Sasuke . . .” Itachi stood up as well.

“Don’t even talk to me,” Sasuke said, taking a step back, eyes dark and narrow. “I don’t want to hear it. I’m tired of listening to you. I’m tired of being in your shadow all the time.”

“But-“

“No!” He shouted, voice cracking at the loud volume. “I’ll be better than you one day, I’ll show you how good I can be. And then you can stop acting like I’ll fail at everything. I’m the best in the class – the _best_! But you don’t care about that – all you care about is Shisui and not me.”

“Sasuke, I love you. You’re the most important person in my life, I promise.”

“Just like you promised we’d have one afternoon together a week?” he shot back, bullet in the chamber and aimed directly at Itachi’s heart.

Itachi was stunned into momentary silence. “I try, Sasuke. I really do. I do whatever I can to spend time with you, but sometimes it just isn’t possible.”

“Maybe I’ll save you the effort of trying,” Sasuke said. “Forget about them. I don’t need special time with you. When I’m better than you, when I can do more than you, then you’ll notice me. Then you’ll _have_ to notice me.” He turned on his heel and ran into the house.

Itachi heard his bedroom door slam.

He wanted to follow him. He wanted to go to him, to explain, to apologize, to let him know that he loved him. But he knew Sasuke didn’t want that right now. Right now, he wanted to be left alone. He had a lot of emotions to sort through, to accept, and Itachi was not going to help at the moment.

He sat down slowly, glancing towards the windowsill, where his lily sat enjoying the evening sun. There was a drooping flower on it, the petals sagging. The flower was almost at the end of its lifespan.

He knew another one would take its place soon. But it didn’t make it any easier to let go of what he had.

 

Sasuke felt sick.

He was upset with himself, with Itachi, with everything, and he didn’t know how to process those feelings. He didn’t know what to do with himself.

He sat in his room in a huddle, holding back tears.

 _I’m sorry_ , he thought miserably. _I didn’t mean to yell. I didn’t mean to get angry_.

He wanted things to go back to the way they were – before life had been thrown upside down. He wanted to go back to when Itachi had endless time for him, and the world was brighter. He wanted to go back to before he began showing such talent as a ninja, and the comparisons came out thick and fast.

There was so much swirling around in his tiny body, and he couldn’t figure out how to deal with it. He needed help, and he needed guidance, but he didn’t want to ask Itachi, not after snapping at him and pushing him away.

He was confused, and distressed, but he didn’t want to admit it. _I can manage_ , he thought. _I can manage on my own._

Itachi always had.

After a long time, he felt steady enough to rise to his feet, moving softly around the house. He paused at the kitchen door, peering around it, staying hidden.

Itachi was sitting in the external doorway, looking outside at the starry night sky.

Sasuke wanted to step inside and say something. He wanted to apologise, but the words felt stuck in his throat. He crept away again, still silent, and crawled into bed.

The world had changed. It felt a bit heavier.

Sasuke buried his face into his pillow. _I don’t know what to do . . . I don’t like the way things are now . . ._

He didn’t know how to change it back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone cares, the story Shisui started telling Itachi was The Origin of Love. Cute story.


	14. 13 - Status Quo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hate this chapter, had to deal with writer's block trying to get it out. Next chapter will be better.

The months rolled by, and Itachi knew his relationship with Sasuke had changed. The boy was quieter with him, reserved and careful in how he spoke. His temper flared up often.

Shisui was certain it was due to age, and nothing else, although Itachi did not seem completely sold on the theory.

“He’s ten, or eleven, I don’t know, but do you know how much trouble you were at that age?”

“I was not.”

“You were a royal pain in the arse, and so is Sasuke. It’s fine.”

But it wasn’t fine, because Itachi didn’t want to let go of what they used to have – he wanted his little baby brother to stay his baby brother forever. But for once this wasn’t something he could fix with dogged determination and his natural brilliance.

He remained, as always, there for Sasuke. Coaxing short conversations from him, keeping things as neutral as possible. He became used to the silence, to the short answers. Sasuke was feeling overshadowed and underpowered, and for now there was nothing Itachi could do to change that.

Sasuke was growing up; he was trying to become his own person. Itachi had to learn to accept that.

They were both changing, and growing, and in need of guidance that wasn’t there anymore. They had both taken new routes in life, for the moment diverging their paths, but Itachi held onto the thought that one day, things would settle back to normal. Sasuke would find something inside him, or outside, that would settle him, and their family would go back to how it was.

While his relationship with Sasuke was growing slightly strained; his relationship with Shisui was growing stronger every day. At some point, Shisui had just naturally moved in with them, falling into routine without falter. He was a deliciously grounding force in Itachi’s tumultuous life, providing stability and consistent companionship.

And, on occasion, a distraction from everything else Itachi had on his mind.

Because Itachi had a list of things he needed to be doing. There were mission reports he had to check. He had a meeting with the council later that afternoon. There were clan things that needed his attention. But while those were all things he _needed_ to do, he was occupying himself instead with something he _wanted_ to do.

Shisui should have been pleased with that – he was forever telling Itachi to think of himself, to put himself first for once, to do something just for himself and for no one else. And if Itachi had asked, maybe Shisui would be pleased.

The only reason he hadn’t asked was because he hadn’t had the opportunity to.

Shisui had him pinned to the wall, mouth to mouth, whole bodies pressed together with burning contact, and Shisui had one hand gripping the leg Itachi had hooked over his hip, because he discovered he liked doing that, and the other in Itachi’s hair, pulling a bit harder than he should, but he had received no protest at the treatment.

What he had received was Itachi pressing eagerly against him, one hand closed in the back of Shisui’s shirt and the other on his shoulder for leverage. And in case that wasn’t enough – Itachi was surprisingly good at applied forces and sometimes it made Shisui want to strangle him because it meant he could get things done very quickly if he wanted – the fist at Shisui’s back moved to the little dip in his spine, and Itachi pressed down hard, at exactly the right angle, shifting his hips at the same time to where he needed them to be.

“Why,” Shisui groaned, pulling his mouth away and letting his head fall forward onto Itachi’s shoulder, “Do you have to do that?”

“Physics.” Itachi flexed his body forward again, seeking pressure.

“Fuck physics,” Shisui pulled away, both hands flashing to pin Itachi’s hips to the wall. “You’re such a brat.”

There was a little smirk starting on Itachi’s mouth, his dark eyes watching Shisui intensely, wondering what would happen now that he was held in place and unable to chase release. He was momentarily disoriented as Shisui spun him around to face the wall.

“Hands on the wall,” Shisui said, somewhat gruffly. “And don’t move.”

Without a word, Itachi complied, turning his head slightly to eye Shisui behind him. Shisui didn’t waste any more time, because he knew Itachi lost patience quickly once things were this far along. He pressed his lips gently behind Itachi’s ear, before moving to Itachi’s neck. Itachi moved his head to the side slightly, muscles pulling tight, and Shisui obligingly bit down, earning a full body shudder and badly contained moan. Shisui wrapped his arms around Itachi, hands sliding to his hips, and Itachi pressed back against him.

“I said don’t move.” Shisui repeated firmly.

Itachi froze in place, not even nodding.

Shisui pressed a kiss to the bite mark on Itachi’s neck, one hand laying firmly on Itachi’s hip, the other sliding under the waist of his pants, fingers running over ridges of hard muscles until he was where he wanted to be, hand closing around the base of Itachi’s erection. Itachi shuddered slightly, and Shisui thought it was with the effort of not moving.

It was not. It was his brief moment of indecision before deciding to disobey, pushing back against Shisui, and once again his irritating understanding of physics came into play because he ground his body back against Shisui _just right_ , and Shisui felt his groin tighten – he was not going to last much longer if Itachi was going to keep doing that.

“You’re terrible at taking orders,” Shisui groaned, self-control faltering for a moment, and he thrust his hips forwards in reply, nearly throwing Itachi fully into the wall.

“That’s why I’m in charge of Anbu,” Itachi said breathlessly. He leant his forehead against the wall, eyes looking down at where Shisui’s hand vanished into his clothing. He breathed, open mouthed, pressure building, and the next time he moved Shisui slammed him forward, the hand around him tightening, and Itachi was suddenly flush against the wall, and Shisui’s hand was moving in an almost frantic rhythm, all control forgone.

Shisui anchored himself with teeth on Itachi’s shoulder, body pushing forwards with shameless grinding against Itachi’s back. He wondered if he was being too rough, if maybe he was hurting the younger with his somewhat haphazard ministrations, but within seconds he decided it was fine, because Itachi’s body stiffened, and the sound he made was a broken gasp mixed with a groan, and that was all Shisui needed to come undone as well.

He took a moment to catch his breath, panting hot against Itachi’s skin, before he trusted himself to stay upright, and he drew back a step, carefully extracting himself. Itachi turned around, leaning his back against the wall and watching Shisui with a hideously self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“You always look so smug afterwards,” Shisui pointed out. “Jerk.”

Itachi did not see the need to reply.

Shisui shook his head. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“You don’t seem to mind.”

Shisui threw him a rueful smile. “Nah, not really.”

A comfortable silence lingered over them, a brief moment of calm, with neither of them in a hurry, neither needing to be somewhere urgently. After a few moments of studying each other, Shisui stepped forward, cupping Itachi’s cheek with one hand to tilt his head back for a gentle kiss.

Itachi was unresisting, eyes sliding beautifully closed.

When Shisui drew back, he moved his hand to smooth Itachi’s hair back from his face. “When are you home tonight?”

“Late.”

“Me too. Got a quick mission.”

“Make sure Sasuke eats something.”

Shisui sighed. “He always does. Stop worrying.”

“I can’t help it.” Itachi smiled.

“Yeah, I know.” Shisui brushed some more of Itachi’s hair back with his thumb. “You’re such a control freak. All that power in Anbu is going to your head.” Shisui stepped back. “We should change clothes.”

“I told you we should do this in the shower, but you didn’t want to listen.”

“I couldn’t hear a word you were saying.” Shisui shrugged. “You mumble.”

“I do not.”

“Then explain why I couldn’t hear you.”

“My mouth was busy,” Itachi shot back.

Shisui grinned. “Yeah, I know.” It was his turn to look smug. “But I can’t help it. It’s the only way to stop you from ordering me around. Or arguing.”

“I don’t argue with you.”

“You’re doing it right now,” Shisui pointed out, and Itachi chose to be quiet then, with raised eyebrows and an upward tilt of his lips.

Itachi turned away first, moving from the hallway into his bedroom – where he had been trying to move Shisui to, on the off chance Sasuke would come home early, but Shisui was stubborn, and heavy, and Itachi hadn’t been able to manipulate him quite how he wanted. Neither of them could be taken by surprise anyway; too fined tuned to the world around them to ever be snuck up on by anyone.

Once changed into fresh clothes, Itachi was leaving through the kitchen, checking there was enough food so the three of them didn’t starve before he had a chance to get to the shops – Shisui was terribly unreliable and actively avoided buying anything green or healthy looking, and Sasuke had a strange fixation with buying too many tomatoes and not enough of any other sort of fruit or vegetable, and it was just easier if Itachi made sure they were getting the right sort of nutrition.

Sasuke entered the house through the kitchen door, looking deep in thought. His head was down, and he wasn’t paying too much attention to where he was, so he was close to Itachi when he suddenly stopped, and looked at his brother.

Silences between them were often awkward now. Sasuke rarely volunteered to talk. But Itachi was feeling light and happy, and he didn’t need words. He closed the rest of the distance between them – ignoring Sasuke’s suspicious expression – and wrapped Sasuke in a hug.

At first, Sasuke just stood, baffled at the behaviour, taken aback. After a few seconds of hesitation, though, he cautiously moved his arms to return the embrace, still unsure.

When Itachi separated, there was a small smile on Sasuke’s face as well. Neither of them said anything, but as Itachi left the room, Sasuke watched him with something akin to contentment on his face.

 

The village was dark and silent, bathed in the calmness of the night.

Itachi flickered to Konoha’s border wall, a silent shadow appearing upon the look out.

“Any sign of him?” he asked quietly.

Sugaru was alone on the lookout tonight. The former Foundation shinobi was an excellent scout, and Itachi routinely sent him on solo missions around Konoha, checking the boundary and surrounds for anything amiss.

“Nothing.” Sugaru’s rough voice was certain. “It has been a few months since we saw him last.”

As best he could, Itachi had been tracking the masked man’s movements, trying to get some idea of where he would be next, what he was trying to achieve. Itachi had his own theory; for now he was keeping everything to himself. He didn’t want to alarm anyone, and he didn’t want the masked man to know he was being watched. Pressure might cause a premature attack, and Itachi wasn’t going to risk it. He was content to wait for now.

“Well,” Itachi looked out over the forest. It was quiet, barely humming with the sounds of insects. “He never stays away for long. And even if he does, we must assume he’s forwarding his own cause.”

Sugaru was the only other person who was aware of the masked man’s existence, because Itachi knew he would never mention it to anyone. Sugaru was the best kind of subordinate – quiet. He didn’t question, he didn’t try to add things. Just did what he was told, and kept his missions to himself.

He also didn’t speak often, so it was surprising when he added, of his own accord, “You think he’s raising an army?”

Itachi glanced at him. “Yes. He knows the Leaf is the strongest target, it makes sense to launch an attack on us first.” _Or he has some personal vendetta against the village_ , Itachi thought. _Who is he?_

Sugaru nodded. Another long pause stretched out. “I can fight his army.”

“I know.”

Sugaru was a member of the Aburame clan, and had thousands of tiny insects at his disposal. Itachi knew they could carry poison, and bite so carefully that the victim would never even feel it, until it was too late, and deadly venom was coursing through their blood. Still, he appreciated Sugaru voicing it. It made him feel like Sugaru wanted to help.

Another silence fell over them. Itachi stayed for a while longer, keeping watch, but once he was satisfied that everything was quiet, he flickered away, heading home.

Izumi was waiting for him, at the entrance to the Uchiha compound.

He paused when he saw her, wondering what she wanted. They hadn’t spoken in a while, but that was nothing unusual for them. Without a reason to meet regularly, they often went months before finding time to check in with each other.

“I want to talk,” she said quietly.

“Alright.” He replied equally quietly, wondering what she wanted. “Where?”

“The lake?” It had been a common spot for them to talk as children. Lately, it seemed as though being a child was no longer an option.

Itachi nodded, and they walked there silently. The night was quiet; there were a few houses with lights still on, but most were dark. The lake was even darker, without the light of civilization to help illuminate it, only the dull reflection of the moon on the water’s surface.

Long periods of rainfall had filled the lake, and the water was close to the wooden planks. They did not sit down, but rather stood side by side, looking out at the peaceful ripple of water.

Izumi spoke first. “I know you’re worried about Sasuke.”

Itachi said nothing.

“But it will be fine. He’s just growing up.”

“I know.”

“So are you,” she added, and Itachi looked at her, surprised and confused by the statement.

“What?”

“You’re growing up, too,” she said. “I know you skipped being a child, mostly, but there was still a lot of growing for you to do. And you have. I know things have been difficult, but you seem like you’re managing. Looks like you’re settling.”

He supposed it was true. He wasn’t as stressed, as tense, as he had been. Having an understanding of Sasuke’s state of mind, confusing as it might be, was helpful and relieved some anxiety about the future of their relationship.

And everything else was going well. The clan had settled, Anbu was running smoothly, missions had gone off without incident.

“I guess so.”

Izumi sighed heavily. “I’m so glad you’re okay. You tend to overthink and overwork, and it’s been really nice to see you slowing down and not pushing yourself for more and more. I worry about you.”

He wanted to tell her she didn’t need to worry, but he thought that maybe she did. She wouldn’t be the first person to accuse him of overworking and under-resting. And if he was really honest with himself, it was overworking that had caused the biggest rift with Sasuke – other than the masked man that Itachi still had to fret over.

He stayed quiet, uncertain about what to say and unwilling to divulge anything he hadn’t considered properly.

“Talk to Sasuke. I think he wants to fix things with you, he just doesn’t know how.”

“He told you that?” Itachi asked curiously.

“Not exactly. He told me he felt awful about yelling at you all the time, and angry at you, and at himself. The kid’s confused, Itachi, and trying to figure the world out. It’s hard,” she said thoughtfully. “Seeing you two at odds with each other. I see it often in other families. I just assumed it would be different with you. But maybe . . . maybe kids are just like that. And Sasuke’s just . . . finding himself.”

 _I don’t know how I lost him._ “I guess.”

“It’ll work out, in the end. Life always does.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than Itachi.

He took a step back automatically when she took a step closer to him, but there wasn’t a whole lot of room to evade on the dock, and she wrapped her arms around him despite his attempts to escape, holding him close in a hug.

Itachi was confused. He wasn’t used to affection from other people, and he didn’t know why she had felt the need to embrace him at all. It didn’t seem to follow the pattern of the conversation. He stayed rigidly still, uncertain, and waiting for whatever was happening to end.

After a time, Izumi released him with a sigh – Itachi finally relaxed – and stepped away, putting a more comfortable distance between them. She seemed much happier, and Itachi wondered why. “Thank you. I miss how we used to talk when we were younger.”

He nodded slowly. It seemed like the right reaction, but he was still baffled by the hug and not sure how he was meant to be acting. Why were girls so confusing?

“I should let you sleep,” she said, seemingly unbothered by his stunned silence. “You probably have a lot to do tomorrow.”

“Yes . . .”

“Good night, then. Thanks for listening.” She smiled at him brightly, which he didn’t return, but she seemed fine with that, turning away and wandering towards the compound. She glanced back at him once, the smile still sunnily in place.

He waited for a few minutes, recollecting his thoughts, before blurring home in mere seconds.

Shisui was snoring lightly, spread out on his back with his hair a mess and bruises on his jaw and shoulder – Itachi wondered what sort of mission he had been on – but he snorted awake when Itachi lay down, shinobi senses not in the least bit dulled by sleep. “Hey. You’re home late.”

Itachi sighed. “Izumi hugged me.”

“Stop the press.” Shisui rolled over, unconcerned.

“Why?”

“Hm?”

“Why did she hug me?”

There was a loud, inelegant snort from his cousin. “Itachi, you’re a big boy. You’ll figure it out.”

That wasn’t a very helpful answer, but Itachi didn’t pursue it. It wasn’t exactly relevant. Shisui fell asleep again easily, leaving Itachi lying in the darkness, staring at the ceiling, mind churning.

 

It was weeks later when Itachi worked up the courage to speak to Sasuke next, wary of rejection, and Sasuke’s prepubescent, easily incited anger.

Sasuke was sitting in the lounge, papers spread around him, a few books scattered with pages marked. He looked deep in thought, making notes and shuffling things around. He kept his eyes on his work, even when Itachi approached.

“Do you want to talk?” Itachi asked quietly.

“Not really.” Sasuke glanced at him briefly.

Itachi sat down anyway, because any moment he could grab with Sasuke was precious. He was carefully considering his next words. “Is it me? Am I the reason you’re upset?”

Sasuke looked surprised by the question, as though unsure. He began to shake his head, then stopped, uncertain. “I don’t . . . I don’t know.” Looking frustrated, he shrugged. “Probably.”

And that wasn’t a ‘yes’. Itachi took that little victory and hid it in his heart. Maybe Shisui and Izumi were right. Maybe Sasuke was just confused, and didn’t know how to express himself, and Itachi was an easy target because he was the person Sasuke was closest to.

Itachi added everything together. Sasuke was annoyed that Itachi was often busy, annoyed that he couldn’t get the time he wanted with him. Sasuke was also feeling overshadowed by everything Itachi had so far achieved, feeling as though he would never catch up. He hated the comparisons that everyone seemed to draw between them. And while Itachi had backed off with his over protectiveness, he knew Sasuke was still irked by it; the by way Itachi stayed up at night if Sasuke was out late, how he always made sure he had a vague idea of where Sasuke would be. He couldn’t help it, though. That’s what a big brother was for.

“I don’t have a lot to do today,” Itachi offered tentatively. “Do you want us to spend some time together? We can do whatever you want.”

For a moment, Sasuke looked tempted to agree. He paused with what he was doing, clearly considering. There was some hesitation in his movements, interest piqued. But then he shook his head. “I need to study.”

Itachi tried not to feel too disappointed. “Are you sure?”

“I have to do better,” Sasuke mumbled, eyes down.

“You can afford a break. Not for long.” _I just want to spend some time with you, please._ “You’re the best in the class, remember?” He offered a small smile.

Sasuke gathered his papers. He stood up, throwing Itachi a blank look. Maybe blank was better than anger, but it still hurt. “It’s not the class I need to be better than.”

 

There were three flowers on the lily. Itachi watered it carefully, checking the soil was moist throughout, and gently touched each flower. The plant had been sitting outside during the summer, on the wooden porch, but now that nights were growing colder, he was planning to bring it inside again. It always looked good on the kitchen windowsill.

He sat back with a sigh, wondering what to do about Sasuke. Part of him wanted to pin the boy down and talk it out until they reached some sort of understanding. The other part of him wanted to just back off, and wait until Sasuke was ready to talk. It wasn’t as though Sasuke never sulked; as a baby he could go weeks fuming over the smallest things, and their parents had often suffered silent treatment for months at a time.

This was just the first time Sasuke was directing his annoyance at his brother, but Itachi supposed it had been a long time coming, and completely inevitable. He was patient, though, and willing to wait out Sasuke’s temper tantrum for as long as it took.

The sun was setting fast. Sasuke had come home just minutes earlier, flying inside out of breath and sweaty from training, and ignoring Itachi in favour of dashing for a shower. He had since emerged to find something to eat, and while he hadn’t spoken a word, he had thrown a small, grateful smile at Itachi for supper being made and already waiting for him.

It wasn’t much, but it was something, just enough, and Itachi had returned the smile. These little flashes of the way Sasuke used to be were beacons of hope, that soon Sasuke would settle down and open up. Things were better between them if there was silence. It was talking that got Sasuke annoyed.

That, and every day that Itachi was home late. _Being there_ seemed to be something Sasuke wanted, and as things were now, it seemed to be the only thing Itachi couldn’t offer. But the silence worked, because Itachi didn’t talk much anyway.

He finished with the lily and stood up, wandering into the house. He could feel Sasuke in the lounge, chakra humming gently, and assumed he was working on homework. He had been throwing himself into his studies lately, and Itachi was incredibly proud of how he was progressing.

He peeked cautiously into the lounge. Sure enough, Sasuke’s head was bowed over papers, a book open in front of him for reference. Itachi left him alone, not wanting to interfere, and moved to his room instead.

Shisui had been on a two-day mission and had barely slept. The day so far had passed with him sprawled out across the bed, catching up on sleep, and now Itachi nudged him awake.

“I’m still sleeping,” Shisui mumbled into the pillows. “Go away.”

“You’re taking up the whole bed. Move.”

“Ugh,” Shisui shifted with a loud groan. “You’re so demanding.”

“I’ll sleep somewhere else.” It was both a threat and an offer.

Shisui sighed. “No, stay. You won’t sleep otherwise. You’ll stay up all night doing paperwork like the over achiever that you are.”

Itachi lay down beside him without further retaliation. “Being organized is not as bad as you make it sound.”

He reached for the book he had started recently, summarising the different tactics and formations used previously in the Anbu. Shisui cuddled up into his side as he started to read, apparently content to spend the rest of the night asleep as well.

Itachi was well into the book when it occurred to him that he hadn’t heard Sasuke go to bed. He flared his chakra to find him, startling Shisui awake again. Sasuke was still in the lounge. That was unusual, and Itachi got up to check on him.

“This is why he gets annoyed,” Shisui mumbled as Itachi got up. “Because you keep checking on him. He’s just sitting down, stop being so over protective.”

Itachi did not bother to reply. The rest of the house was silent, but there was a lamp still on in the lounge.

Sasuke was asleep over his work, expression soft and relaxed, and for a few minutes Itachi just stood and looked at him. He had missed this; the peacefulness of a child just being a child.

 _That’s my brother_ , he thought, half sad that moments like this were so rare, half happy that he got to have one, all to himself. He moved across the room carefully, unwilling to wake Sasuke and break the peace. Part of him wanted to pick him up, take him to bed, and stay there with him all night, but he didn’t think Sasuke would appreciate the gesture as much as Itachi would.

He picked Sasuke up gingerly, careful not to jostle him into waking. Sasuke remained asleep, and Itachi stood for a while longer, just holding him, revelling in the closeness. It had been years since he had picked him up last, years since he’d had to carry Sasuke.

And he realised then, walking slowly to Sasuke’s room, that he didn’t need to carry him like he did before. Sasuke was perfectly able to hold himself up, to stand on his own two feet. He didn’t need Itachi the same way that he used to, even though Itachi was still treating him as though he did. Sasuke was fine on his own, and that was all he had been trying to communicate, even though his methods of conversation were ineffectual and childish.

Sasuke was trying his best to grow up. Itachi just hadn’t been able to see it.

 _I won’t interfere_ , he thought, laying Sasuke tenderly down on his bed. _But I will be here. Always. As long as you need me._

There were still issues between them, rifts and tears, and Itachi would need to learn to fix those, but he had hope. It would be fine.

He smoothed Sasuke’s hair back gently. _I know you’re angry at me, and I know I can’t fix that all at once, but I also know you’ll come back to me. You just need time. You’ll be a great shinobi, and you’ll achieve whatever you want, and I will watch you do it all._

“I love you, Sasuke. Always.”

Sasuke didn’t wake up, but Itachi thought he saw a flicker of a smile cross his little brother’s face.

 

The masked man was still at the back of his mind.

Hidden underneath the floorboards of the Uchiha shrine were ancient records, forbidden techniques, clan secrets and any number of other things. Itachi had read and memorised them all.

He moved on then to the Leaf’s archives, going over every record that even mentioned the name Uchiha, again. He had looked through them all before.

 _I know he’s Uchiha_ , he thought, surrounded by books and papers and growing levels of irritation at a mystery he couldn’t solve. _Because the Sharingan has never left the clan._

Then he paused.

It has.

_Only once._

And Itachi knew exactly where it had gone to, because he had served under the man’s command for years. He was up on his feet in less than a second, blurring out of the Konoha archives.


	15. 14 - Planning is Important

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is literally a filler chapter, no plot here whatsoever.
> 
> WARNING: Under-aged sex. Chapter contains two hideously inexperienced boys awkwardly trying to figure out intimacy.

Itachi was always direct with questions. Sometimes, Shisui appreciated his ability to get to the point. Other times, it made him choke on his breakfast.

“When are we going to have sex?”

Like now.

After spluttering in a very dignified manner, and making hacking, coughing sounds, and staring at Itachi with a perplexed look, he finally managed to speak, “What?”

And Itachi gave him the look he usually reserved for speaking to the clan at meetings, the one of utter disapproval, as though Shisui were the dimmest creature Itachi had ever had the displeasure of interacting with. “You heard me.”

Shisui was still wondering how much cereal he had inhaled. “Okay . . . um . . . where is this coming from?”

“Not from you, clearly.” Itachi levelled a look at him. “Why haven’t we? Don’t you want to?”

“Itachi, we hooked up when you were thirteen. I didn’t think it was unreasonable to wait.”

“Over two years?”

“We do enough,” Shisui said carefully. “I mean, it’s not like you’re missing out . . .” _This is a weird conversation . . ._ “We do  . . . stuff . . .”

“I know you want more. And so do I. So why are we waiting?”

“Because you’re fifteen,” Shisui said. “Come on, I know you’re weirdly mature, but still. Is it wrong for me to want to wait?”

“When?” Itachi asked simply.

“Um . . .” What was the right answer here? Two years? Next year? Next month? Tuesday? “When you’re ready, and I’m ready, I guess.”

“I’m ready now.”

What did ‘now’ even mean? “I’m eating breakfast.”

“You’re making excuses.”

“What do you want me to do?” Shisui asked. “Abandon my quest for a healthy start to the day in favour of taking you right here on the kitchen table with the freaking toast burning?”

“Of course not,” Itachi said sharply. “Sasuke is still home.”

“Probably listening in and being scarred for life.”

“He’s still in bed.” Itachi seemed to be waiting expectantly for Shisui to add something else.

Shisui sighed. “When you’re sixteen, okay? Another month or so.” He hoped Itachi might be satisfied with the answer.

What he got was Itachi looming over him, dark eyes looking unnervingly intense. “Can you wait that long?”

Shisui nodded uncertainly. “Yeah . . .” _You’re gonna make me a liar, aren’t you?_

“Because I know you dream about it. And I know you think about it – all the time. I can see it in your eyes. You were thinking it last night, while we were in the shower.” Itachi held Shisui’s gaze steadily. “I know you were, I could feel it, just like I could feel you on my back, and you were wondering what it would be like.”

Shisui swallowed. He wouldn’t lie, he had been thinking it. It was hard not to, with Itachi standing shakily with his back pressed to Shisui’s chest, hands on the wall to steady himself while Shisui held him with one hand on his hip, lips on his neck, and the other hand wrapped around his shaft and hot water pouring over them both.

“You thought about it on Saturday night when you had me under you, and I know you wanted to be releasing inside me and not inside your pants, but you didn’t do anything about it-“

“Itachi,” Shisui dared to breathe. “You can stop. I know. I was there.” He let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, okay, I want you, and you know it. But maybe here isn’t the best time for this conversation.”

Itachi was still looking at him. Shisui felt trapped.

“Look,” he said, hoping to talk some sense into Itachi, who had apparently hit puberty _hard_ all of a sudden. “We will. Maybe I was waiting for the right time. Or the courage to figure out how to broach the subject, which you clearly beat me to. Sometimes you’re so direct it’s unnerving.”

Itachi was about to reply when he flicked his eyes to the door, and took a few steps back from Shisui.

“Hey,” Sasuke said, wandering into the kitchen. “I’ve got shuriken practice after class today, so I’ll be home late, if anyone cares.” He sat down with a thump, looking tired. This was the norm for the brothers now, a short comment from Sasuke and quiet acceptance from Itachi. There was less tension between them, but things were still uncertain.

With a yawn, Sasuke reached out for the cereal, ignoring whatever odd tension was in the room.

There was complete silence for a while. Sasuke ate quietly, blinking sleep away, and Shisui sat perfectly still, in case moving might set Itachi off on another rant. Itachi was leaning against the counter, eyes never leaving Shisui, and waiting patiently.

Sasuke finished eating and got up, wandering around the house and gathering his things. The silence in the kitchen continued until Shisui heard the front door closing.

“I can feel it when you touch me,” Itachi said, as though there had never been an interruption. “You want more – and you’re always thinking it.”

“What, are you psychic now?”

“No, but I am right.” Itachi came closer.

Shisui drew back. “For the record, you are fucking creepy when you’re horny.”

Itachi’s smile was dark and dangerous. “You don’t mind.”

Truth be told, Shisui was a little alarmed by how much he _didn’t_ mind. He stood up, turning to leave.

“Where are you going?” Itachi asked curiously.

“Cold shower before work.” Shisui replied shortly.

Itachi half shrugged, looking immensely smug. Shisui could hear his self-satisfied, bratty little smile when he spoke, “Have fun.”

 

Shisui didn’t think he had ever felt so nervous coming home. Because Itachi was terrifying when he wanted something, and so persistent and used to getting his own way – it came from being the best, there was so little denied to him because he was always able to achieve it – that Shisui felt like he was being thrown into the lion’s den.

Not that Itachi would ever make him do something he didn’t want to, he was just feeling a bit thrown by Itachi’s blatant and brash way of bringing things up. Also, Shisui had naturally assumed he would take the lead with this particular topic, because he usually did, but he had forgotten to account for Itachi’s tenacity in making a situation go his way. It was just another reminder to Shisui that no matter how in charge he thought he was, how demure and submissive Itachi seemed, Itachi was always in control.

And Shisui had been spending the entire day fantasising and fretting, and was a bundle of nerves as he stood in the doorway to Itachi’s room – their room – and tried not to shake uncontrollably.

Itachi was reclined on the bed, reading, with one knee bent, and flicked his gaze to Shisui briefly. “Good evening.”

“So I was thinking,” Shisui said, entering the room with caution. “And, well, I would like to go all the way with you. But I don’t know if it should be right now. Maybe we need to think about this a bit more. Plan it a little better.”

He was feeling rather satisfied with his answer, because if there was one thing Itachi liked, it was ‘planning’. Spontaneity was great and all, but even Shisui, with his limited experience, knew that these things required at least a little bit of preparation. His smugness vanished the instant Itachi lowered his book and regarded him with a dry, patronizing look.

Without a word, and without ever looking away, Itachi reached into the drawer next to him, and tossed a little bottle towards Shisui. He caught it automatically.

“Oh. You have been planning.”

“Did you think I just brought it up out of nowhere?” Itachi asked flatly, returning his attention to his book. “I have done extensive research on the subject.”

“On . . . sex . . .?” Shisui was feeling left out. That sounded like the kind of research he could get behind.

“I wanted to be prepared.”

“Of course you did.” _Weirdo. Where did you even get lube from? I don’t want to know . . ._

“I’m not going to force you to do anything,” Itachi continued, languidly turning a page, and Shisui wondered how he could stay so focused considering what they were discussing. “But I will mention – Sasuke is only coming home late tonight.”

All the blood in Shisui’s body helpfully relocated to his groin.

“So do with that information what you will. I am going nowhere.” He sounded so calm, so in control, so irritatingly unaffected that Shisui wanted to change that. He wanted to change that smug indifference into something else – he didn’t care what. Images of previous times together flashed through his mind, of Itachi gasping as Shisui pressed against him, of the beautiful way his breath stuttered when Shisui bit just right on his neck, and suddenly Shisui was done with waiting.

He threw the bottle back at Itachi’s head with a vengeance. Itachi caught it, naturally, but it still made Shisui feel better to have lobbed it at him in the first place. He pulled his forehead protector off, shedding weapons next. “You are a sadistic little arsehole. A manipulative, piss-irritating bastard.”

His shirt came off next, and Itachi finally closed his book, dark eyes locking onto newly revealed skin.

“Sometimes you’re such a brat I want to throttle you.”

There was a slow, dangerous-looking smile curling Itachi’s lips, and he said nothing, just looking immensely self-satisfied. It was so unbelievably hot. Who knew Itachi could be so damn seductive?

Shisui approached, feeling his heart beating hard, breathing a little shorter. He paused at the edge of the bed, while Itachi calmly – so calmly, it was infuriating and Shisui was going to fix that – put his book aside, pushed some hair behind his ear and smiled sweetly at Shisui, as though he wasn’t the reason Shisui could hardly breathe.

“Clothes off,” Shisui ordered, feeling a brief spike of bravado overcoming the twisting anticipation of what was to come.

Itachi lay back leisurely. “Do it yourself.”

Okay, so it was going to be one of _those_ times, where Itachi was a snarkier arse than usual, obviously pleased with his level of control over the situation, and arrogant satisfaction at having orchestrated the whole situation in the first place. Shisui, however, was more than keen to play along.

He rested his weight on the bed beside Itachi, hands immediately moving to pull his shirt off. Itachi was unresisting, happy to lie lax and let Shisui take the lead for a moment. Shisui moved his lips down Itachi’s chest in a series of gentle kisses, until he reached the waist of his pants and pulled them off without ceremony. Itachi was already hard.

“My god, what were you reading?”

“Anbu tactics and statistics.”

Shisui shrugged. “Whatever does it for you, I guess.” He pressed a nonchalant kiss to Itachi’s hip, before getting off the bed, and discarding his own pants. Itachi watched appreciatively, the smile still curling his lips. It made Shisui’s heart skip a beat.

“I told you, you wanted it,” Itachi pointed out, eyes lingering on Shisui’s lower body.

“That was never in question,” Shisui said. He came back, settling his weight over Itachi to capture his mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. Itachi tangled both hands into his hair, gripping tight, and not allowing Shisui any room to escape. When Itachi finally allowed Shisui to breathe, he asked, rather dazed, “Ready to move this along?”

“Yes. Just let me put the towel down.”

“What?” Shisui blinked as Itachi pushed him to the side, and reached under the pillow for a neatly folded towel, which he deftly laid across the bed. _How much planning did you do?_ Shisui thought, somewhat stunned. _And how convinced were you that you were going to get your own way?_

“A towel? Really?” Shisui wondered if he should be worried that Itachi’s bizarre attention to detail wasn’t bothering him in the least. Maybe Itachi’s special brand of lunacy was contagious. Or sexually transmitted. He gripped Itachi’s hips, turning him and laying him on his stomach. Itachi let himself be manipulated unresistingly.

“We are on unfamiliar territory,” Itachi explained, sounding irritatingly clinical. “This seemed like a good precaution.”

“You suck the romance out of everything.”

“You suck other things.”

One day, Shisui would give into the urge and strangle Itachi. He settled for pushing Itachi’s face firmly in to the pillow instead. _You always have to turn everything into an argument . . ._

Itachi shook for a few seconds, and Shisui was afraid he’d done something wrong, but closer inspection revealed Itachi was trying not to laugh, obviously pleased with rattling Shisui. He turned his head to the side, eyes bright. Shisui supressed a sigh. It was hard to be mad at Itachi, with his special type of childishness. He leaned down to kiss a pale shoulder, murmuring against warm skin. “You sure about this?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation.

Shisui kissed him again, then sat up, locating the little bottle. Itachi had grown still, but the sound of the cap popping off made every muscle in his body tighten, snapping alert. Shisui waited for a moment, to see if Itachi would say anything. Tell him to stop, maybe. But Itachi didn’t, he took a deep breath, letting it out in a shuddering sigh, and remained perfectly still.

Shisui swiftly coated two fingers in the strange feeling liquid. There was a flutter in his belly, nervous anticipation. He bit his lower lip. What if he hurt Itachi? What if it wasn’t good? His hesitation was noticed.

Finally, Itachi’s cool grip on everything seemed to slip, there was a barely visible shiver up his spine, and he watched Shisui over his shoulder with a little crease between his eyes, a bit worried, a bit nervous at being in a situation he didn’t know.

“Tell me if you want to stop,” Shisui reminded him, placing one hand on Itachi’s lower back – his whole body jerked forward a few inches at the contact – and bringing his other hand to press gently against the cleft of Itachi’s backside.

Itachi just nodded, eyes screwing shut. He held his breath, unsure and almost reeling from the anticipation, and when Shisui finally sank one finger inside him he whined low in his throat. After the initial moment of surprise, he blinked his eyes open. It didn’t hurt. It felt strange, not unpleasant, but it didn’t hurt. He looked surprised by that, and Shisui grinned.

“What, were you expecting something more dramatic?”

Itachi didn’t answer, but he did push back against Shisui’s hand, wanting more, wanting to feel more, to chase the strange feeling. Shisui’s hand on his back pressed a bit harder, keeping him still. Slightly annoyed, Itachi pushed his hips forwards instead, trying to get some sort of friction against the bed.

“Patience,” Shisui said, gently pulling his single finger in and out. “Surely all your tedious research told you not to rush this?”

Itachi threw a look over his shoulder. He wasn’t quite sure what to retort, but his eyes met Shisui’s, both of theirs dark and glowing. For a moment, Shisui stopped moving, waiting in case Itachi had something he needed to say, but when he got nothing but a look, slightly sultry, he continued with what he had been doing.

Shisui eased a second finger in, watching with rapt fascination as Itachi pushed his hips against the bed again, obviously trying to gain some momentum, get some sort of relief to the immense pressure building through his body. It was magical, watching Itachi become undone, each little exhale accompanied by a soft whine, his whole body wired and trembling, and Shisui felt his own arousal grow by the second.

He needed more. They had come this far, he needed to be inside the young genius. He withdrew his fingers carefully, but even so received a violent jerk and a gasp from Itachi. He pressed his face against the pillow. As Shisui slicked up his erection with the lube, he could hear Itachi’s little gasping breaths; it was wonderful to hear. _Gods, you’re stunning_ , he thought.

He pressed his tip against Itachi. “You ready for this?”

He got a brief nod, with Itachi’s face still buried in the pillow. He kissed Itachi’s back, frowning a little at the flinch he elicited. There would be time, he thought, when Itachi wasn’t so overwrought and excited, and maybe these little things wouldn’t get him so on edge.

There was resistance as Shisui pushed in, and a muffled groan from Itachi.

“Breathe,” Shisui reminded him tightly. He kept pushing, feeling delicious tight pressure around his cock. It was so intense, better than he thought it would be. He stopped, fully sheathed, to catch his breath and settle his racing heart. “Itachi?”

Itachi turned his head slightly to the side, just a small gesture to indicate that he’d heard, that he was still present, just overwhelmed, and unable to articulate thoughts. He opened his eyes once, they were shining bright, and screwed them closed again, body held still.

“I’ve got you,” Shisui whispered against his ear. “It’s okay.”

Itachi was still shaking slightly, a quiver running throughout his body – tension built high. He didn’t open his eyes again, taking in deep breaths through his nose, and Shisui tentatively moved, slightly out, slightly in, barely anything, but it was still enough, and Itachi could feel it. He tried to jerk away.

“It’s okay,” Shisui repeated. “Relax.” He tried again, just a little out, back in, trying to take it slow. It was so hard to, though; Itachi was a tight vice around him and the pressure was almost too much. He was certain he wouldn’t last long. Itachi was remaining stubbornly silent, looking overwhelmed, and Shisui paused. “Itachi. Let me know you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” he breathed. “You can . . . you can keep going . . .”

“I’m not hurting you?”

“No . . . maybe . . . just feels strange . . .”

“This okay?” Shisui asked, drawing out almost completely, then sinking back in, still keeping it slow.

Itachi nodded.

Shisui did it again. He didn’t think he would be able to go faster, his skin was prickly with sweat and feeling far too sensitive, and he had a feeling this would be a short lived endeavour. But he tried to keep it slow, tried to make it last, but he could feel the delicious pressure building low in his stomach, and he knew making it last wasn’t going to be an option. Not this time, anyway.

He moved a bit faster, now fixated on release, because it still felt so damn good, and one more thrust into Itachi resulted in the younger boy yelping, and almost diving out from under him, clearly taken by surprise at some new sensation. The sudden motion sent a wave of new feeling through Shisui, and while Itachi glanced at him curiously over his shoulder, intrigued by the new feeling, Shisui pushed into him once more, muffling a groan on Itachi’s shoulder as the pressure finally released. He absently spasmed a few times, the rolling intensity of orgasm difficult to overcome, before letting out a shuddering breath against Itachi’s skin.

He gathered his wits enough to note that Itachi still needed a release, and gently pulled out of him, slowly, as Itachi tensed around him. The low sound of protest Itachi made was thoroughly erotic, and Shisui wanted to hear him do it again, and again. There would be a next time.

Now, he turned Itachi over roughly, onto his back, still catching his breath and looking at the flexing muscles of Itachi’s stomach. He was desperately hard, and leaking, and without a thought Shisui leaned down to take him into his mouth. He heard Itachi’s jaw clench, felt him tighten both fists into the towel, and all it took was a swirl of Shisui’s tongue and Itachi was breathing his name harshly, back bowing, and Shisui thought absently, _Well, that was easy._

Itachi’s chest was heaving beautifully, eyes heavily lidded but still staying locked onto Shisui. He was smiling peacefully.

 _Smug little bastard_ , Shisui thought, moving to lie next to him. Itachi nuzzled into him. It was an oddly sweet gesture, and Shisui felt a rush of affection towards him. When he trusted himself to speak again, he asked softly, “You okay?”

Itachi nodded against him, sweaty hair sticking between them.

“Satisfied? You successfully guilt tripped me into having sex with you. You can tick that off the ‘Finally’ list.” When he got no answer, Shisui jostled Itachi gently. “You asleep there?”

“Not asleep.”

“How blown is your mind that you still haven’t made a complete sentence?”

Itachi wiggled a bit, shifting to press a gentle kiss to Shisui’s mouth. Maybe it was to try get him to shut up.

“Why were you so pushy about this, anyway?” Shisui asked, genuinely curious. “I mean, I know hormones and all, but . . . why?”

Itachi blinked at him, seeming surprised by the question, as though the answer was obvious. The answer, it turned out, was so beautiful Shisui was rendered speechless.

“Because,” Itachi said gently, looking into Shisui’s eyes with absolute truth and conviction. “You’re mine. You’re a part of my life – of my everything. You’re a part of my heart. I just wanted you to be a part of my body as well.”


	16. 15 - Getting Better Every Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, a chapter I actually like!

Itachi was almost asleep when Shisui cleared his throat softly, the sound seeming too loud in the dark silence that surrounded them.

“So,” he said, carefully. “Can I tell people about this? About us?”

This was a conversation Itachi had been avoiding, because he knew Shisui wasn’t going to be pleased with the answer. He kept his tone as neutral as possible, “I’d rather you didn’t.”

“I’ve kept my mouth shut for over two years. I think we’re overdue for an explanation.”

“No one can know,” Itachi stated plainly. “Simple as that.”

“But why not? Why can’t they?”

“Shisui, you know why.”

The Uchiha clan was old fashioned and set in their ways. Itachi had no doubt they would be . . .  displeased, to say the least, about what he and Shisui were getting up to.

“What other people think shouldn’t matter. And you don’t care what other people think anyway. The people who matter to us – Sasuke, and Izumi, and-“

“Shisui, like it or not, the clan matters,” Itachi snapped. “I am their Head and there is a certain level of public decency I need to maintain.”

“So you’re going to ignore a huge part of your life just for appearance’s sake?” Shisui sounded angry.

“ _Yes_.” Itachi was equally angry. It wasn’t what he wanted, but it was what he needed for now. “And I’m not ignoring it, I’m just keeping it to myself. There is a difference.”

“The difference is that you’re ashamed of it,” Shisui said, and Itachi pulled out of his arms, putting some distance between them. “That’s why you’re hiding.”

“I’m not ashamed.” He sat up, all thoughts of sleep fleeing. Whether he wanted to or not, this conversation couldn’t be put off for much longer. “Do you not realise how much pressure there is on me to uphold certain traditions? I work very closely to the council – and they will not tolerate this sort of behaviour. I represent this clan, and whether you want to admit it or not, they are not going to be accepting of us. I know it’s old fashioned, I know it’s stupid, but that’s how life is right now. And maybe if you’d give me a chance, I can work on it, and I can start changing their minds and trying to get this clan – this whole village – to be a bit more open minded. But for now, please, just let it go and keep this between us. I’m trying, I’ll do it one day. But right now, to everyone else, nothing between us has changed.”

“You want me to pretend you’re not the most important person in my life just because you work close to a bunch of old homophobes? Because the clan and the council will think its . . . I don’t know, whatever you think they’ll think.”

“Yes.”

“Doesn’t that _bother_ you? That you can’t be who you are, just because of the people around you?”

“No. Because I get to be who I am with the people who matter to me the most. I can take anything, from anyone, if I know you’ll still let me be myself. I’m not happy about the situation, but I know which battles to pick. You do not. So let me change the world the right way.”

“What if that isn’t enough for me? Why can’t _I_ be myself? Why can’t I hold your hand when we’re out in the village? Why can’t I kiss you when I see you? Why can’t I let people know that you’re mine, and I’m yours, and that’s okay?”

“Because I don’t know what will happen,” Itachi snapped hotly. “I don’t know what the outcome will be. I don’t know if you’ll be shunned by the clan, I don’t know if I’ll lose my position with the Anbu, I _don’t know_. So just let me fix things my way, because I’m not risking you.”

“Why not?” Shisui’s voice was rising, passionate and full of ire. “Why won’t you fight for us? Why won’t you-“

“Because _I love you_ ,” Itachi cut him off with a snarl.

Shisui’s jaw snapped shut. He kept it tensely clenched.

“I _cannot_ lose you,” Itachi continued with a growl behind his words. “And I can’t guarantee that things will stay the same between us if people know. There is no danger in keeping what we have a secret. But there is danger in revealing it. And I will not risk you. I will not gamble with this. Unless there is absolute certainty that you will stay at my side, I will keep this a secret. I will build you a world where people can know, but until I do, I will not allow anyone to jeopardise this. It stays between us. Do you understand?”

Shisui was sitting rigidly still.

“Shisui?” Itachi questioned sharply, irritation still riding high.

“You said you love me . . .” Shisui said quietly.

Itachi stared at him.

“You’ve never said it before.”

Itachi flickered through his memories, certain that Shisui was wrong. He wasn’t. “I . . .”

“Itachi . . .” Shisui edged a bit closer. Uncertain, Itachi drew back slightly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t push this.” He reached a hand out, tentatively curling his fingers around one of Itachi’s hands. “But you’re just so perfect, and I want the world to know you’re mine. I just want to show you off – because I’m so proud of you . . .”

Itachi stared at their hands. “Maybe one day . . .”

“I love you.” Even in the darkness, Shisui could stare into the endless black of Itachi’s eyes. “And I’m sorry.”

Itachi just nodded, still reeling from the sudden change in mood, from Shisui’s abrupt submission.

Shisui lay down again, tucking Itachi against his chest. The silence around them was no longer tense. After a few minutes, Itachi moved, breaking Shisui’s hold and reaching across the bed to the table beside it.

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t know.” Itachi mumbled. It was a terribly cryptic answer, and Shisui waited to see what would result from it. After a moment, Itachi lay down again, reaching for Shisui’s arm and pulling it up where he could see clearly in the dim moonlight. Without a word, he tied the thin red ribbon that usually held his hair in check around Shisui’s wrist.

Shisui watched curiously.

“There,” Itachi said shortly, and Shisui bit back a grin because he recognised that tone of voice – Sasuke sounded the exact same way when he was embarrassed by some act of physical affection. It was too cute. “You can’t tell anyone about us but you can carry a piece of me with you always. Hope that’s good enough.”

He very pointedly avoided eye contact, burrowing determinedly into the sheets with his back to Shisui.

_You’re adorable_. Shisui smiled now, because Itachi wasn’t looking, and studied the little ribbon secured to his left arm. “It’s more than enough. Thank you.”

He edged forwards to press a soft kiss to Itachi’s bare shoulder. “Itachi?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

There was a short silence. Shisui waited, wondering if he would get the reply he wanted. Itachi could be funny about words sometimes, preferring to show rather than tell when it came to things like intimacy and emotion.

Itachi let out a tense breath. His reply was barely audible, absolutely smothered in self-consciousness. “. . . I love you  . . .”

 

Sasuke had long since stopped updating his brother on his progress at the Academy, but Itachi got the information he needed from other sources. A girl from the Yamanaka clan was in the same class as Sasuke, and Itachi had a member of the same clan in Anbu. Iruka was happy to chat at any time, and Itachi would drop by on occasion to talk.

And Sasuke was speaking to Izumi, to Itachi’s great relief. So while he still felt like some stranger watching Sasuke’s life from the outside, at least he could see it. And he was still trying, talking to Sasuke whenever he could. Edging in bits of conversation, asking the right questions, getting used to the cold glances and the short answers.

As the day of graduation drew near, Itachi wanted to know more. He wanted to be there, desperately, because he thought maybe once Sasuke was a Leaf shinobi, he would feel more settled in his role in life, and the animosity towards Itachi would abate. Once Sasuke was a ninja, maybe he would feel more equal to his brother.

So, he asked carefully once Sasuke was home one evening. The younger boy was working on some homework, a captive audience for once. Itachi eased into the room, not surprised when Sasuke did not look up from what he was working on.

“When’s the graduation ceremony?” Itachi asked hesitantly, wary of being rebuffed.

“Does it matter?” Sasuke asked, still not looking up.

“I’d like to be there for you.”

Sasuke threw him a look. “You sure? You sure you wouldn’t rather be with Shisui?”

“Sasuke . . .”

“It’s on Friday, not that you’ll show up. Please, don’t rearrange your _very important_ schedule just for me,” Sasuke stood up, voice flat. “I’m going out. Don’t wait up.”

“Sasuke,” Itachi spoke gently. “Don’t leave.”

“Why not?” he asked, already turning away.

“Because I want to talk to you,” Itachi moved in a blur, grabbing Sasuke’s wrist. The boy turned on him, dark eyes narrowed. Itachi didn’t let go. “You’re upset with me. I want to make it right. But I can’t if you won’t talk to me.”

“I don’t need to talk to you,” Sasuke said irritably. “I don’t _want_ to talk to you. Just ignore me, it’s what you’re best at these days.”

Itachi’s grip loosened, and Sasuke pulled his arm free. He glared, for a tense, frozen moment, then turned away and stalked through the house. Itachi heard the front door slam. He remained where he was.

_When did I get everything wrong?_ He wondered. _When did my brother start hating me?_

He stood uncertainly, unsure of what to do next. Being uncertain was not something he was used to. _Of all I need to be_ , he thought, _why is this the hardest?_

He could be the Head of his clan.

He could lead the entire Anbu.

He could protect the Leaf, and fulfil any mission given to him.

But he couldn’t be a brother.

And that role should have been the most natural.

 

He went to Sasuke’s graduation. Sasuke made a point not to look at him.

After the ceremony, Sasuke went home alone. Itachi lingered, watching other graduating ninja, surrounded by their friends and families. Happy, and celebrating together. And he wondered when he had failed to be there for Sasuke. When had he started getting life so wrong?

“Yo.”

Itachi tuned around with a sigh. “Kakashi-san. Why are you here?”

“Checking out the students I’m taking on. Shouldn’t you be with your brother?”

“I . . . was told not to bother.”

“I see.” Kakashi nodded slowly. “Well, since you don’t have anything better to do, come out for a drink?”

“I shouldn’t. I should go check on Sasuke. And there’s also-“

“Itachi,” Kakashi interrupted. “It wasn’t really a question. Think of it more like an order. You’re good at following orders.”

Shisui would beg to differ. “I outrank you,” Itachi muttered.

Kakashi clapped a friendly hand on Itachi’s shoulder. “Come on, then. A few drinks will be good for you.”

“I’m underage.”

“I won’t tell.”

Itachi gave him a look. “No, thank you. I should go home and talk to Sasuke. Maybe he wants to talk about starting missions. Maybe . . .”

“Are you worried about him?” Kakashi asked.

“Yes.” Itachi sighed lightly. “I know I shouldn’t be, it’s genin stuff, it’ll be fine, but I still worry. And he can be a bit brash with people, I’m worried he won’t get along with his team, or with the jounin looking after him, and I-“

“Slow down there, control freak,” Kakashi said. “Settle down a bit. First of all, he doesn’t need to get along with his team, he just needs to work with them. And he will. Second – calm down. I’ll take care of him, okay?”

“You’ll . . .?” Itachi’s quick mind connected the dots, and through the haze of stress he managed a small smile. “He’s with you?”

“What can I say? I’m used to wrangling Uchiha boys.”

“I’ll feel a lot better knowing he’s got you keeping an eye on him,” Itachi admitted.

“If he continues giving you the silent treatment,” Kakashi said, “I’ll tell you how he’s doing. Over a drink of course – you need to loosen up occasionally.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Yeah, well,” Kakashi smiled broadly. “Congratulations, by the way. Your little brother is now a Leaf ninja.”

Itachi smiled proudly. “Yes. He is.”

 

Sasuke was not where Itachi expected him to be.

He was standing, with his forehead protector on, glinting newly in the setting sun and without a single mark on the polished metal, eyes cast down upon the two gravestones. His back stiffened slightly as Itachi approached, but he did not move away, nor did he say anything.

“They’d be proud of you, too.” Somewhat hesitantly, Itachi laid a gentle hand on Sasuke’s shoulder.

Sasuke just nodded slightly.

“I’m proud of you.”

“I didn’t think you’d come today.”

“I’d do anything for you.”

Sasuke finally looked at him. It felt like years since he’d looked at Itachi with such an expression – one completely devoid of any hurt or accusation. “I’ve been a jerk to you, lately. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I forgive you.” He always would, instantly.

“But it’s been so frustrating,” Sasuke continued, eyes snapping away. “Everyone wants me to be as good as you – to be better than you. And I don’t know how to do that. I need to grow, I need to be stronger, but . . . I feel like you’re so out of reach. How am I meant to achieve all that you have? How am I meant to get stronger than you?”

“Sasuke, I don’t care about any of that. I just want you to be yourself.”

“I want to be better.” Sasuke frowned slightly. “You have your dream, and I have mine.”

_Yes, but yours makes me uneasy_. “You don’t need to be better than me.”

“I do. I don’t want to spend my life as your shadow. I need to be my own ninja, I need to have my own identity. And right now, you’re the only one people think of when they hear the name Uchiha. You are the goal to overcome.”

“I understand that. But don’t push me away while you achieve it. I want to be there for you. I want to be in your life.” _I want my baby brother_. Itachi didn’t know if Sasuke would or wouldn’t let him back in, he knew their relationship would never be as innocently intimate as it had once been.

Sasuke was growing up, and such childishness had to be left behind. But still, Itachi just wanted to be near him, even in silence. Sasuke let out a loud breath. “Yeah.”

His voice was short, as it had been for months. Itachi wasn’t expecting things to change overnight. He just wanted the assurance that Sasuke wouldn’t push him away completely.

Sasuke shrugged slightly. “Sometimes I feel really angry at you, and I don’t know what to do about that. I don’t always want to feel that way. I feel like you trap me sometimes, and I have to learn to be better, and it’s so frustrating,” Sasuke trailed off with an irritated noise. He was confused, and annoyed, and not completely able to articulate his thoughts and feelings.

“I’ll try do better,” Itachi said softly. “I’ll try not to interfere with you. But, please, let me be there for you. You don’t have to talk to me, you don’t even have to acknowledge me. Just let me be in your life, even if it’s just following you in the background.” He couldn’t stand the rift between them, the feeling of separation. “I want things to go back to the way they were before.”

Sasuke nodded. “So do I.  But . . . I didn’t know how to tell you that . . . I’ll try to . . . to be a better brother . . .” His thoughts were scattered, his goals undefined. He was trying to figure himself out, and he needed space to do it. Suddenly looking embarrassed, Sasuke cleared his throat softly, eyes down. “So can . . . can we do something together tonight? Just the two of us . . .?”

Itachi heart soared. He answered carefully, not wanting to startle Sasuke with too much cloying eagerness. “Yes . . . Anything you want . . .”

 

Shisui came home that night to the soft murmur of the television – which he immediately thought was cute, because neither Itachi nor Sasuke wasted much time watching things. He peeked carefully into the lounge, not wanting to interrupt if they were having an endearing brotherly movie night.

It turned out he didn’t need to worry. They weren’t going to hear him anyway.

Both were sound asleep on the floor, nestled in blankets – and that was a nostalgia trip right there; Shisui couldn’t remember the last time they’d done that, although he knew it had been a frequent occurrence when Sasuke was much younger – with the TV still murmuring.

Moving slowly, so as not to risk waking them, Shisui straightened the blankets slightly so the brothers were covered, before easing Sasuke’s new forehead protector off and setting it down on the low table nearby. He turned the TV off, and resisted the urge to lean over give Itachi a kiss on the forehead, because he knew that would wake him instantly.

Instead, he tiptoed out the lounge, leaving them in peace, with a smile on his face.

 

True to his word, Kakashi insisted Itachi meet with him a few months later.

“This bar is really quiet,” he explained. “Perfect for meeting and chatting.”

Shisui had decided to tag along, sandwiching Itachi between himself and Kakashi to minimize the risk of him escaping. Once they had ordered drinks, rather reluctantly on Itachi’s part, Shisui asked without preamble, “What were you reading when we arrived?”

“Icha Icha Paradise,” Kakashi replied nonchalantly. “Want to see?”

“Okay.” Shisui said agreeably, taking the small book Kakashi offered and peering inside curiously. He became suspiciously quiet after that, but Itachi decided to ignore him.

“How’s Sasuke been?” he asked instead. In the months since Sasuke had started missions, things between the brothers had been improving. Sasuke was guarded with what he shared, but the silences between them were no longer strained. Often Sasuke would just sit quietly in the same room while Itachi worked, and Itachi loved those moments. They very rarely had time alone together with their busy schedules, but Sasuke seemed not to mind as much, taking what he could, and giving back with small smiles and tentative conversation.

Itachi’s walk home after work often intercepted Team Seven returning from their daily missions, and while Sasuke was quiet with his team, and didn’t offer much in conversation, he would wait patiently at Itachi’s side while Naruto babbled on, shooting his brother the occasional look of satisfaction at a mission done well, or a shy smile of pride when Kakashi mentioned something he’d done or improved. Their relationship had definitely changed as Sasuke grew older, but Itachi no longer worried about it degenerating. It seemed to have reached a peaceful plateau.

Itachi was also growing strangely fond of Naruto; he enjoyed the kid’s bubbly personality and willingness to chat aimlessly.

“He’s doing fine,” Kakashi replied. “Best in the team. Not much of a team player, though. Pretty self-involved.”

“Runs in the family,” Shisui said absently, not once looking up from the book.

“Since Sasuke probably hasn’t told you yet,” Kakashi continued. “We’re leaving Konoha for a mission. Before you get your panties in a twist,” Kakashi continued, cutting off Itachi’s reflexive protest. “It’s a very simple mission. Relax.”

“Is it safe?” Itachi asked worriedly.

Kakashi raised an eyebrow. “He’s with me. How much trouble could he get into?”

Itachi shrugged. “I don’t know. Outside the village can be intimidating and-“

“Psst,” Shisui elbowed him, whispering loudly, “Hey, Itachi?”

“What?” he asked somewhat irritably, far more focused on his brother’s potential safety than Shisui’s sudden desire for literature.

“Can we try this?” Shisui held the book up for inspection, looking innocently over it at Itachi.

“ _What the hell are you looking at?_ ”

“Don’t look so scandalized, it’s just a suggestion. Anyway, you like weird stuff. Freak.” Shisui turned the book around, tilting his head to look at it from a different angle. “There’s also this-“

“Give me that,” Itachi snapped, snatching the book from Shisui and handing it firmly back to Kakashi.

Shisui made an attempt to grab it back, but Itachi had quickly got it out of range.

“I guess that confirms that rumour,” Kakashi said, nodding slowly. “Genma owes me a beer.”

“What rumour?” Itachi asked, and Shisui peered at the older ninja expectantly.

“That you two are banging each other,” Kakashi said casually. When Itachi just stared at him, Kakashi added, “Come on, Itachi, we’re not all blind. Genma voted that you weren’t actually having sex. I said you were. Looks like I win.”

“You do,” Shisui said, ignoring when Itachi levelled a glare at him. “What? He does.”

“Also,” Kakashi eyed Shisui’s wrist, the red ribbon still tied firmly. “There was that little detail. Hard to miss Itachi marking his territory.”

Shisui snorted. “If he was marking his territory, he’d have tied it around something else.”

“Shisui . . .” Itachi sounded rather despairing. “ _No_.”

Kakashi chose not to comment, but he did chortle under his breath.

“Can you please keep this to yourself?” Itachi asked him, sounding terribly resigned.

Kakashi nodded. “I wasn’t planning on advertising it. Besides, it’s more fun keeping it to myself and watching everyone else try to figure it out. Tenzou suspects, but hasn’t had the guts to say anything yet.”

Itachi sighed.

“Can I see that book again?” Shisui asked.

“You can borrow it if you’d like,” Kakashi offered.

“No,” Itachi snapped. “Get rid of it.”

“I didn’t finish looking,” Shisui held his hand out expectantly, only to have it slapped. “Well, you’re no fun.”

“How can you carry something like that around, you pervert?” Itachi turned to Kakashi, frowning and unsettled.

“Oh, sure, _I’m_ a pervert. At least I’m not sleeping with my cousin.”

And this, Itachi reflected, was why he didn’t drink.


	17. 16 - Exams on the Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter again

One nice thing about Sasuke being out of the house – not that he’d ever mention that to Itachi, because he got tense and prickly when his brother was away – was that it didn’t matter _where_ Shisui pinned the younger boy down to do whatever he felt like with him. There was no danger of Sasuke walking in and being scarred for life, which meant that Itachi, in turn, was not as concerned about keeping quiet and locking doors and generally being a buzzkill.

And that meant that Shisui could get away with things like this: running his tongue up Itachi’s throat and biting at the soft skin under his chin, and Itachi wouldn’t hold back the groan. It meant that Shisui could thrust roughly into him, and so far Itachi had only mentioned once that _this is the kitchen table_ , although Shisui was certain the comment would come up again once Itachi’s eyes finished rolling to the back of his head and he didn’t have his fingers locked into Shisui’s hands with a death grip.

It also meant that Shisui could risk pulling a hand free without worrying about what happened next, because if he didn’t keep both of Itachi’s hands occupied – like fucking _clockwork_ – those lithe and powerful fingers would dive for the dip on his back; Itachi hid it well but he had a mean streak in him that seemed the most prominent when he was arching under Shisui, fingers pushing hard, because that involuntary, violent jerk of Shisui’s hips was often the way Itachi hit orgasm.

And today was no exception. And the lack of potential interruptions also meant that Shisui didn’t have to bite his lip – “Fucking _hell_ , Itachi, _why_?” – and was free to swear as loudly as he wanted, for as long as he wanted to. “Every _fucking_ time, god damnit, you _sadist_.”

Not that Itachi was paying attention now, smiling kind of smugly with his arms stretched leisurely above his head while Shisui tried to find a comfortable position beside him with his back spasming and his leg tingling unnervingly. The sensation was finally returning to his toes when Itachi, predictably, turned his head to Shisui and said rather disapprovingly, “You know we’re on the kitchen table, right?”

“Didn’t notice.”

“I was trying to make tea.”

“I know.”

Itachi sat up, looking around for discarded clothing. Shisui remained where he was, wondering if his leg would ever feel normal again. He sat up indignantly when Itachi picked up his shirt to wipe himself off. “Hey! That’s gross!”

“So is sex on the kitchen table,” Itachi replied mildly. He dressed himself, absently tossing Shisui’s shirt in the general direction of the rest of their unwashed laundry.

“Now what am I supposed to wear?”

Itachi just looked at him, dark eyes flickering across Shisui’s chest, before turning to finish preparing his tea. Shisui stayed where he was, mostly because he wasn’t sure he could walk just yet – his back was still rippling oddly – and Itachi leant against the counter, tea cup in hand, and stared at him through the gently curling steam.

“Are you just going to stare at me while you drink your tea?”

Itachi took a silent sip, eyes never leaving Shisui.

Shisui lay down again with a dramatic sigh. “I think you broke my back, you arsehole. Why do you have to _do_ that?”

There was no answer. Itachi finished his tea quietly, watching Shisui’s chest rise and fall as he breathed, then stepped up to him, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his mouth. “I’ve got a meeting. Clean the table when you get up.”

“Why? I’ll fuck you on it when you get back tonight.”

Itachi threw his reply over his shoulder as he left the kitchen. “In the shower tonight. Clean the table.”

_Well_ , Shisui reflected. He could probably deal with cleaning the table for that sort of trade off.

 

“The Chuunin exams are being held here in Konoha this year,” Hiruzen said. “Which means that you and your Anbu are in charge of security.”

Itachi nodded. “That sounds simple enough. I’m familiar with the exam layout.”

“The Kazekage will be in attendance for the final stadium matches, so we will need additional security during that time.”

“I will assign enough Anbu.” Itachi said solemnly. “There will be no reason to worry.”

“I don’t doubt that you will have everything under control. The Chuunin exams are a good time to strengthen bonds between the villages. Suna is neither an ally nor an enemy. Show casing our strong young shinobi, and showing how secure and well run our village is will be a good opportunity to convince them to align with us.”

“I understand.” Itachi stood up. “My Anbu are assembled and waiting, I will let them know what will be happening.”

“Thank you, Itachi. I’ll leave the rest to you.”

The assembled Anbu were milling around in the conference room, some dressed in full uniform fresh from duty, others in civilian clothes. And, as always, far too full of themselves.

“There’s a mark on your throat there, Uchiha,” Anko said with a toothy grin, gesturing at him. “Getting into trouble on missions?”

“That is none of your concern,” he said, closing the door.

“Let me guess,” Ibiki weighed in, his deep voice amused. “It’s not a training related injury.”

“Nah,” Anko replied with a smirk. “Itachi’s just a baby, it’s definitely not from anything other than work.”

“Can we focus?” he asked. This teasing was nothing new. Being the youngest – and subsequently the youngest leader – had always been an issue in Anbu, where egos ran wild and status was important. And being the baby of the bunch was trying at best. It also didn’t help that whenever Shisui or Kakashi were around they greatly encouraged all teasing and verbal jabs.

“He’s not a baby anymore,” Yamanaka Fu added in. “He’s almost doubled in size since he started.”

“Still a baby,” Anko said firmly. “Cute, yes, but until he can buy us a round of drinks, he’s the baby.”

“Are you finished?” Itachi asked somewhat irritably. “Because there is actually something important to discuss.”

The Anbu quieted down, and Itachi breathed a mental sigh of relief.

“This year’s Chuunin exams are being held here. The Kazekage will also be present in the third stage, so we need to make sure security is airtight. One week before the exams start I’m pulling everyone from missions to prevent injury – barring emergencies- so if you’ve got anything ongoing, get it wrapped up. Investigations will continue as normal. I will be organizing a schedule for the exams, and will have that posted to everyone in about a week. Any questions?”

“Was that from your girlfriend?”

“Any _relevant_ questions?” he amended, resisting the urge to slap a hand despairingly over his face. _Why does everything happen to me?_

“Can we place bets on the fights?” Tenzou asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

“Only if I don’t know about it,” Itachi said rather snappishly. “And I’d like to remind whoever is posted in the stadiums that there will be dignitaries from the other countries there, so please remain somewhat decent in how you conduct yourselves. You are all reflecting the quality and professionalism of this village – and my Anbu forces.”

“Baby’s reputation is on the line,” Anko chortled. “Everyone play nice.”

“I’m proctoring round one, Mini Captain,” Ibiki said, and Itachi had to forcibly stop himself from rolling his eyes – the nickname had always annoyed him and naturally stuck. “So don’t put me down for surveillance then.”

“I got round two,” Anko added. “If someone beats your record for the Forest of Death, will you buy us all drinks?”

“Only if it’s Sasuke’s team.” He knew it wouldn’t be; he was certain Kakashi wouldn’t put Sasuke’s team into the Chuunin exams this year. They were still inexperienced as a team, and Itachi was grateful for that. It meant he wouldn’t have to spend the entire exam period stressing.

“What if someone beats your record for the written exam?” Fu asked curiously.

“I don’t hold the record for the written exam.”

“Yeah, but you’re second,” Anko shrugged. “Pretty much the same.”

“Focus,” he said plainly. “I need everyone to focus. I’ll be working on the teams. Zo,” he looked at the masked Anbu member. Zo was reliable, quiet, and rarely teased. Itachi liked him. “Your unit will most likely be in the stadium during the matches. I will let you know.”

“Anything you need, Captain,” Zo nodded once, and Itachi felt a brief rush of appreciation for one squad leader who didn’t find it necessary to irritate him to exhaustion every time they interacted.

“Alright,” he glanced over them once more. “I think that’s all for now. Carry on with whatever you need to do.”

In true Anbu fashion, the room was empty in an instant, and Itachi breathed a sigh of relief.

 

Itachi almost had a heart attack when Kakashi calmly recounted their activities on their mission away from home – Shisui didn’t think he’d ever seen Itachi go so pale. And Kakashi noticed, gleefully detailing the entire mission in all its deadly glory, looking thrilled with himself at rattling Itachi to such an extent.

Sasuke seemed unaffected and unimpressed. He had offered a few words of greeting on return, looking quietly satisfied with himself, but had moved into the house quickly to shower and rest. Luckily – or not - Kakashi had invited himself in to chat. Shisui listened with fascination, particularly interested in the death of Zabuza.

“The Seven Swordsmen are formidable opponents,” he’d added helpfully, watching all colour drain from Itachi’s face.

“I know,” Kakashi replied cheerfully. “The boys were so outclassed, it’s a wonder they didn’t get killed. Well, Sasuke almost did, but not to worry,” he beamed, “I told you I’d bring him home safely.”

“Why didn’t you call for help?” Itachi asked faintly.

“It was nothing I couldn’t handle. You worry too much.”

“You nearly got my brother killed on a _basic escort mission_ . . .”

“But I didn’t,” Kakashi pointed out, and Shisui nodded his agreement. It was unspoken between them that every opportunity to verbally harass Itachi much be taken – winding him up was like a hobby. “Just like I brought you back from every mission we went on, and those were much more dangerous. Whatever you can do, Sasuke can do, right?”

“Yup,” Shisui agreed. “Sasuke’s always telling us he’s perfectly capable.”

Itachi was concerned he might pass out. He was eternally grateful to be sitting down.

“Oh, one other thing,” Kakashi said, and Itachi felt his blood run cold because Kakashi’s ‘other thing’ was probably the most important thing. “I’m putting the team into the Chuunin exams.”

“ _What?_ ” Itachi blanched, and Shisui raised a slightly concerned eyebrow.

“Yeah, they might as well give it a shot,” Kakashi sounded incredibly nonchalant. “Seems silly to let the opportunity pass by, don’t you think?”

While Itachi spluttered to come up with a suitable answer, Shisui commented, “I see no problem with it. It’s a pretty basic exam.”

“Forest of _Death_ , Shisui,” Itachi managed, feeling as though he couldn’t breathe.

“I took you in there when you were eight and you were fine. Hell, you went through it alone at eleven. A little faith in your brother, maybe?”

“I heard you’re in charge of security,” Kakashi said, trying to suppress his delight at the slight twitch under Itachi’s eye. “So how bad could it be?”

Itachi levelled a glare at him, not that it had much effect.

“Sasuke will be fine,” Shisui said with a shrug. “Stop worrying so much.”

“Have you both lost your minds?” Itachi hissed.

“Never had mine,” Kakashi said blandly.

“I left mine in Mist,” Shisui snarked. “Itachi, calm down before you give yourself a heart attack. It’s just an exam. You’ve done a lot of those and have never been injured.”

“And he’ll have his team there to support him,” Kakashi said, sounding far more patronizing than soothing. “Besides, I brought him home to you with an upgrade. He’s got his Sharingan; everything will be fine. When he passes to Chuunin we can all celebrate by getting blind drunk, and you can learn to relax.”

“Sounds good,” Shisui nodded. “I’m in on that. Itachi?”

“I think I’m going into shock.”

“I’ll make some tea,” Shisui said, standing up. “That’ll revive you.”

“I’ll be going, then,” Kakashi said, pleased with himself for nearly rendering Itachi catatonic. “I’ll see you at the exams.”

“Oh, god,” Itachi let his face fall into his hands.

Kakashi patted him on the head. “There, there. I’ll keep an eye on him. You just watch your blood pressure, and everything will be fine.”

Coming from Kakashi, with his special brand of patronizing sarcasm, it didn’t sound at all consoling.


	18. 17 - Round One

Shisui was lying with Itachi against his chest, one hand resting gently over the younger’s stomach, thumb occasionally brushing over tight muscle. Itachi had long since become quiet, and Shisui wondered if he had finally fallen asleep.

He had been wound up and on edge ever since Sasuke came home, the lack of control over his brother’s safety a source of rising anxiety, and it had taken a considerable amount of effort on Shisui’s part to get him to settle down, come to bed, and engage in activities that had hopefully calmed him enough to sleep.

It looked like it had worked. Shisui pressed a kiss to Itachi’s hair, smiling slightly when Itachi flinched in his grasp. Not completely settled, then. He stroked his thumb a bit firmer across Itachi’s skin. Itachi pushed his body back against him, seeking warmth and comfort.

“You know what no one except for me will ever know about you?” Shisui murmured, lips on Itachi’s hair, and moving his hand to tangle into one of Itachi’s.

“Hm?” Itachi didn’t open his eyes, seemingly content to just lie and listen.

“You’re fucking kinky.”

That made Itachi open his eyes, and he looked over his shoulder at Shisui with narrowed eyes. “I am not.”

“You are. You have a pain kink.”

“I do not.”

“You do,” Shisui grinned, kissing the top of his head gently. “You like it when it hurts. You like it when you hurt me – because I’ve told you a thousand times to get your pointy fingers out of my back and you know it hurts when you poke me there.”

“I don’t . . .” Itachi trailed off, wondering how to defend himself.

“You do,” Shisui insisted, still grinning. “You’re a kinky little arse, who likes the pain.”

Itachi grumbled something under his breath.

“Aw, don’t be shy,” Shisui tightened his grip on Itachi. “I don’t mind. Much. I still love you, you freak.” He chuckled lightly when Itachi huffed and looked away from him, feeling annoyed and somewhat put out by Shisui’s odd accusation.

Now that the thought was with him, though, Itachi’s mind was following it. And like everything else in his life, he liked to know why it was there. He was mulling through his own inclinations when Shisui asked the same question.

“Why?” It wasn’t accusing, it wasn’t teasing. Shisui’s tone was genuinely curious.

He didn’t answer immediately.

“Why do you think you do that? I mean . . . I don’t mind . . . But . . . you’re so different with me. No one else sees you like this, at all. I just . . . why?”

Why? Because Itachi had spent a lifetime embracing pain. It had been a part of him forever. And familiarity was comforting, no matter what that familiarity was. When it came to intimacy, it was uncharted territory – it was a new subject to be learned, and having something he knew inside that situation made it easier. Kept him calm. Because Shisui made him feel things he didn’t like dealing with – a racing heart, and a thrilling pulse, and short breaths. There were sensations and emotions that absolutely destroyed his self-control, and there needed to be a grounding force – something to balance the unknown with the perfected, the practiced, the embraced.

“It helps me,” he finally said. “Because . . . Sometimes I feel overwhelmed. But pain is something I know.”

Shisui wondered if he should question further. “And . . . you like it, don’t you?”

“Well . . . Yes . . .”

The psychology behind that was probably very interesting, but Shisui didn’t really care to know more. Itachi was still stiff in his arms, unsure about this confession and Shisui’s reaction, because they had never put it into words before.

Shisui wanted to reassure him, that it was fine, whatever madness went on in Itachi’s head was perfectly acceptable – or at least, tolerable.

“You know I’ll do whatever you ask, right?” Shisui said softly, his thumb moving against the tight muscles of Itachi’s side. “Wherever you lead, I will follow.”

“I know.”

“Anything you want, it’s yours. Anything that helps you.”

Itachi finally shifted in his arms, wriggling around to face him, dark eyes reflecting moonlight.

“These are things you need to hear,” Shisui said. “Because I know you think you’re too strong to need anyone, and you are, really; you’re amazing and I couldn’t love you more, but the fact is – I’m _here_. I’m not going anywhere. Everything you want from life – you don’t have to fight for it alone. Ever. Okay?”

Itachi nodded. His eyes flicked away for a second. “I’m sorry if I hurt you sometimes.”

“It’s okay.” Shisui kissed his forehead. “I’ll make up for it by annoying you all the time. And it’s nothing I can’t handle; you could be much, much rougher. And yes, that was a challenge.”

Itachi snuggled into his chest with a soft smile. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Well, no, no one does. But someone has to put up with me.”

Itachi drew back slightly, one hand coming to Shisui’s shoulder, gently tracing the lines of muscle from his neck down his arm, slowly and gently.

“Ready for another round, or something?”

Itachi shook his head. “I just want to look.”

“Okay.” That was another of Itachi’s strange quirks; that insistence to just touch Shisui, gently, all over, as though exploring his body for the first time. It used to make Shisui uncomfortable, such close scrutiny, but he was used to it now.

It was another odd thing that Itachi seemed to need, finding the motions grounding. He had taken to a familiar pattern when looking, and Shisui knew the repetition was calming.

Itachi’s fingers hooked into the red ribbon around Shisui’s wrist, and he smiled slightly. “You still have this?”

“I’ll never take it off,” Shisui said confidently. “Since I can’t tell the world that you’re mine, I’ll keep this on me instead. Everyone can see it, even if they don’t know what it means. So I still get to tell everyone, just not in words.”

Itachi cleared his throat softly, and Shisui’s ears almost pricked. That was a clear indication something interesting was coming, it was Itachi’s little signal that he was preparing to say something he wouldn’t normally say. In a soft voice, Itachi spoke into Shisui’s chest, still uncomfortable with the words but feeling the need to say them. “I love you . . .”

Shisui tightened his grip on Itachi’s body. “Love you too. Kinks and all. Now go to sleep.”

“You can’t order me around,” Itachi murmured, snuggling into Shisui’s chest.

“Everything’s an argument with you,” Shisui sighed. He could feel Itachi’s smile against his skin.

“You started it.”

“If I remember correctly,” Shisui said slowly, and he could feel Itachi’s expression turning questioning. “You kissed me first – right at the beginning – so _technically_ ,” he grinned. “You started it.”

There was a soft little snort against Shisui’s chest. It sounded half amused and half indignant. Itachi sounded sleepy when he answered. “Someone had to start it . . .”

 

The exams approached far too quickly for Itachi’s liking. Sasuke happily accepted Itachi’s offer of help with training, only falling into adolescent irritation when Naruto invited himself along, or Shisui showed up to ‘help’. But his irritation was not at Itachi, and for that the older brother was grateful and pleased. Sasuke had greatly improved in all aspects of his shinobi training, and Itachi was proud and almost looking forward to seeing Sasuke pass the exams. Seeing Sasuke’s prowess eased his mind a bit, and he was no longer as anxious about his brother being hurt.

Scheduling for the Chuunin exams was at the forefront of his mind. He’d been working on the roster for days already, agonising over who was where, wanting to be everywhere at once. Anbu was spread thin, and he knew he would need to call in more Jounin back up at the time of the exams. He was fretting over the schedule when Shisui knocked on the window.

Itachi shot him a glance, and looked pointedly at his desk. _I’m working_ , the look said.

Shisui slid the window open and dropped inside anyway. “You work too much.”

“I work the exact right amount.” Itachi purposefully kept his eyes on his work, hoping he could telegraph to Shisui that he was _very busy_ and _not in the mood for casual conversation_.

“I’m taking you out for a drink as soon as possible. You need to unwind.”

“I don’t drink.”

“Maybe you should,” Shisui grinned. He sauntered over to the desk, and before Itachi could blink he’d snatched the Anbu schedule away and retreated several metres to study it. “This looks interesting.”

“Shisui,” Itachi stood up. “Do not damage that, I’ve been planning it for days-“

“I won’t damage it,” Shisui rolled his eyes. “Honestly, you have no faith in me.”

“Why are you here anyway? I thought you had a mission briefing.” Itachi edged towards the older boy, hoping to recover his schedule.

“I had it,” Shisui said casually, flinging the paper nonchalantly into the air. Itachi dived for it, silently cursing Shisui’s childishness.

“I’ll be away on a mission in Mist for a few months,” Shisui said, sliding it casually into the conversation as he snatched Itachi’s pen away next to fiddle with it.

“Months?” Itachi echoed, paper clutched in his hands. He stared at Shisui, and repeated rather dimly, “Months?”

“Yeah, but you’ll be fine without me,” Shisui flashed him a brilliant smile. “Stop worrying, I haven’t even left yet.”

“I’m not worrying,” Itachi said, but it was a barely concealed lie and they both knew it. Itachi’s legendary over-protective streak flared constantly when Shisui or Sasuke were around. Itachi realised something, and he spoke quietly, “You’ll miss the Chuunin exams.”

“Yeah,” Shisui’s smile faded. “I realised that. But it’s fine, Sasuke gets annoyed with me cheering for him anyway. And you’ve got everything under control, you don’t need me there getting in your way. And I’ll be home a few days after the third-round matches, anyway.”

Itachi sighed. “You don’t get in the way.”

“The point is,” Shisui said. “You’ve got everything sorted already. These exams are going to go off without a hitch. Sasuke makes Chuunin, you and I can take a holiday and you can stop stressing so much.”

“I don’t stress too much,” Itachi mumbled.

“And there is no sand in Suna,” Shisui rolled his eyes. “Promise me you’ll try to get some sleep while I’m away. I don’t need to come home to a zombie.”

“I’ll look after myself,” Itachi promised.

“Good.” Shisui glanced back at the door. “Is that locked?”

“It doesn’t have a lock. Why?”

“’Cause I know you get all on edge if you think people might walk in,” Shisui shrugged. “But I’m gonna be gone for months, and I have something I need to do to you before I leave.”

“What-“ Itachi didn’t get very far in his question. Before he had formulated a complete sentence, Shisui pushed him back against the desk, dropped to his knees and yanked Itachi’s pants down. “Shisui, no! Not here, stop it-“

“Shush, you’ll like it.”

“No, I – Don’t you dare!”

“I wouldn’t yell. Someone might hear you.”

Itachi’s thoroughly mortified expression made Shisui chuckle slightly. He closed his eyes, feeling defeated. One hand gripped the edge of the desk, white-knuckled, and he pressed his other fist to his mouth in an attempt to keep quiet. _Hurry up, then, if you have to, you little-_

His brain cut itself off the very moment Shisui took him into his mouth. A badly muffled moan escaped him. He didn’t dare look down, keeping his eyes screwed closed, because he knew Shisui would be watching him with red eyes. He always did – they both did – every single time recorded in perfect detail so they could replicate what worked, and learn what exactly the other liked.

For once he was appreciative of the fact – because by now Shisui had this down to a fine art – a swirl of the tongue just there, fingers wrapped around and squeezing here – which meant it shouldn’t take long if Shisui would just hurry up. Itachi felt the need to remind him.

“Hurry up,” he snapped, eyes pointedly closed, blood rushing enthusiastically.

Shisui actually bothered to reply – without moving – and while his words were absolutely unintelligible humming, it didn’t matter what they were because they vibrated around Itachi and sent lightning sharp sensations firing around his body.

“Oh my god,” he breathed, because that was new, and powerful, and probably only helping at this point but he was still annoyed with Shisui for starting this in the first place.

Shisui had the audacity to ‘reply’ again, and while Itachi could feel nothing but outrageously strong vibrations he could hear the smugness and extrapolate the words – _Like that, huh?_ Because Shisui was not above taunting and teasing.

_Just hurry up_ , Itachi thought desperately, eyes now glued to the door in terror, because what if someone walked in? People came and went from his office all the time, Anbu moved in and out, and it was getting hard to focus on anything other than the feel of Shisui’s tongue, and lips, and the warmth that was wrapped around his cock.

But sweet merciful gods he could feel the pressure building, and he didn’t think he had ever been so keen to orgasm in his life. He stayed absolutely still, not wanting to do anything that might make Shisui pause, or think too much, or come up with any other elaborate ways to torture. He could feel his blood rushing, heart beat picking up, eyes still on the door, and in response to the rapid-fire panic flare of his chakra, Shisui flicked his back at him, and damned if Itachi couldn’t feel the amusement in it.

“Shisui,” he groaned, wanting the word to be sharper, more pointed, but it was too breathy and not angry enough.

 Shisui was clearly enjoying himself, another questioning sound springing forth from him, and it shuddered right through Itachi’s body, bringing the coil of pressure gathering low in his belly to its boiling point.

Itachi came with a series of absolutely crashing emotions – relief, and annoyance – certainly a new bedfellow for them- and piercing pleasure.

He took in a few deep breaths, trying to reorient himself. Shisui pulled away with a small, nonchalant kiss to the inside of Itachi’s thigh, and was then right in front of Itachi’s face, expression contorted with the effort of not bursting into laughter. He coughed once or twice, although it sounded suspiciously like a laugh. He looked exceptionally pleased with himself.

“Never,” Itachi spat, readjusting his clothes, “Do that again.”

“Did you enjoy it?” Shisui asked innocently.

Itachi wanted to snap ‘no’, but wasn’t sure it that was a lie or not. He settled for glaring.

“I didn’t hear you say stop,” Shisui pointed out.

“I _did_ say stop,” Itachi said hotly. “You didn’t listen.”

Shisui grinned. “I know. Can you blame me? It’s too much fun winding you up, and I won’t get to do that for a while.” He cleared his throat a bit, voice slightly rough. “I’m going home to pick up a few things, then I’m off.”

Itachi let out a sigh – filled with exasperation, resignation, and a touch of sadness at the prospect of Shisui being away for so long. “Be careful.”

Even though Aruku was a firm friend, Shisui was not welcome in Mist – no Konoha shinobi were. The thought of Shisui being captured, or injured, was constantly nagging at Itachi’s mind. Even though Shisui was infamous in Mist, due to several past missions, there were shinobi there who would like nothing more than the prestige of taking down the legendary Shisui of the Body Flicker.

“I will be fine,” Shisui said. It was something he said a lot. “The exams will be fine. Sasuke will be fine. Will you stop assuming the worst?”

“I’ll try.”

“Good.” Shisui smiled at him gently, gaze tender and fond. “I love you.”

Itachi ducked his head, eyes breaking away. Embarrassed, he stared at the floor, muttering softly, “I’ll miss you.”

“I know you will. No one to harass you in the office.” Shisui waited patiently for Itachi to look up again. He did eventually. “Look after yourself. Don’t work too much.”

“I don’t.”

“You,” Shisui kissed him softly. “Are a liar.”

With a small sigh, Itachi let his head fall forward, face buried in Shisui’s neck. Shisui held him.

“Time’s gonna fly by,” he said. “You’ll barely even notice I’m gone.”

“I’ll notice.”

“Yeah.” Shisui turned his head slightly, breathing deeply into Itachi’s hair. “I need to go.”

“Stay a bit longer.”

“Okay.” Shisui tightened his grip reassuringly. “Few more minutes.” He pressed another gentle kiss to Itachi’s hair. “Anything for you.”

 

The evening was quiet with Shisui gone. Sasuke seemed relaxed and well prepared, a striking contrast to the mass of anxiety Itachi was winding himself up into.

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Itachi asked, once dinner was eaten, and Sasuke was sitting quietly on the couch going through notes for the first part of the Chuunin exams.

“Hm,” he acknowledged vaguely, mind elsewhere.

Itachi sat down beside him. He was trying not to worry, and failing miserably. _He’ll be fine_ , he tried to remind himself. _Sasuke’s a good shinobi. Everything will be fine._

Sasuke finally looked up, watching Itachi curiously. “Are you still worrying?”

“Yes.”

“You know it will fine, right?” Sasuke raised an eyebrow.

“I’m your older brother; it’s my job to worry.”

“Well,” Sasuke returned his attention to his notes. “You’re very good at your job.”

He sat soundlessly, still reading, and after a while Itachi edged closer, leaning his face onto Sasuke’s shoulder. It was a hint, as always, because Itachi liked contact, and he was worried, and he needed something. With a sigh, Sasuke lowered his notes. “Do you want to cuddle?”

“Yes.”

“You know you can just ask instead of climbing into my shoulder – ah!” Sasuke was grabbed unexpectedly, Itachi pulling him down and laying the two of the them along the couch. He nuzzled happily into Sasuke’s shoulder.

Sasuke squirmed into a comfortable position, and raised his notes again.

“I have to leave early tomorrow,” Itachi sighed into Sasuke’s shirt. “I’ll leave breakfast for you.”

“Hm.” Sasuke nodded slightly.

“Be safe.”

“Hm.”

Softer now, arms tightening slightly, Itachi murmured, “I love you.”

“Hm.” Sasuke glanced at him, a faint smile on his face. “Love you too.”

 

The first stage of the exams apparently went well. Ibiki informed Itachi that his brother’s team had made it through to the second round. Itachi was pleased at Sasuke’s success, and had been feeling better about the exams in general. Shortly after the second stage began, he shunshined through the Forest of Death, stopping at the tower in the centre of it to check up on the proceedings.

He found Anko already there, ahead of him, looking contemplatively out the window.

“Any problems so far?” he asked.

“Those kids from Sand have completed the second stage already.” Anko folded her arms. “One hour and thirty-seven minutes. Doesn’t that beat out your record?”

Itachi half smiled. “Yes.”

“Drinks all round.”

“I never agreed to that.”

Anko shrugged. “Worth a shot. Still, everything here seems ordinary enough. Nothing too strange to report.”

“That’s good to hear.”

There was a short silence, then Anko rolled her eyes. “You can stop hovering now, Uchiha.”

“I don’t hover.”

Anko shot him a look, one she had perfected from many years in Anbu. “You do. You lurk, as though we can’t do our jobs without your insufferable ‘inspection’. Shisui said you would do this. He warned me personally that you would be underfoot throughout the entire exams.”

Itachi was mildly offended. “I’m not underfoot, I’m checking on the progress for the exams.”

“Right.” Anko rolled her eyes. “You don’t have anything to do with the exams, just the security. So there’s no reason for you to be here, at all.”

And mild offense graduated to actual offense. “I can check on things if I want to.”

“Mini Captain,” Anko raised an eyebrow, knowing the nickname irritated him. “You can run along, we have everything sorted out here.”

Itachi grumbled under his breath. “Not that mini . . .”

“Go have a cup of tea,” Anko said. “I’ll be at the preliminary matches. If Sasuke doesn’t make it through, Kakashi will let you know.”

Itachi muttered again, “I still don’t lurk.”

“But you do whine, so get lost,” Anko said, rolling her eyes. “Go be a control freak somewhere else. I’ve got this. If anything goes wrong you can say ‘I told you so’ as much as you like.”

Her brash attitude had always amused Itachi. He liked the fact that she was so casual around him, and it helped put him slightly more at ease. He would trust Anko with almost any mission, there was no reason for this to be any different. Slightly reluctantly, he left the tower, making his way back to the centre of the village.

The second round took place over more than a single day, and Itachi spent that evening alone, fussing over his lily and hoping everything was going okay with Sasuke and his team. He may have been one of the minority in the village, but he had great faith in Naruto, and coupled with Sasuke’s abilities, he fully expected the entire team to get through the forest without incident.

He didn’t hear any of the results until the preliminary matches were completed, so he didn’t know if Sasuke and his team had made it through the forest unscathed. There had been rumours, and he knew the medical teams had seen to quite a few injuries. The only stopping him from storming into the exams and checking on Sasuke was the fact that the supervising Jounin were all present, and he knew Kakashi was capable of keeping his team in one piece.

By the time the preliminary rounds were finished, Itachi was feeling tense. There had been too many injuries, and he was worried about Sasuke. So he stayed in the centre of the village, anxiously waiting for the exam candidates to start appearing so he could latch onto the first familiar face and interrogate them.

It happened to be Naruto.

“Naruto,” Itachi blurred in front of the boy. “What happened? Why isn’t Sasuke with you? Where’s Kakashi?”

“Uh . . .” Naruto blinked, thrown by Itachi’s agitation and rapid-fire interrogation. “Kakashi-sensei took Sasuke to the hospital. He wasn’t feeling well after his match. He’s fine, though.” Naruto shrugged. “He won his match.”

Itachi breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, good. He’s alright?”

“Yeah. It’s Sasuke – too stubborn to quit.”

That was not as comforting as Naruto believed. Itachi paused for a moment, planning his next move. He knew Kakashi would contact him if it was anything urgent, so there was no reason to worry himself over Sasuke. And Sasuke would probably be annoyed at Itachi’s worry, since he had been trying hard to gain more independence.

Itachi elected to wait. He trusted Kakashi to let him know if anything went wrong. _It’ll be fine. Kakashi will let you know if you’re needed._ He looked at Naruto. “Did you win your match?”

“Yeah,” Naruto grinned proudly. “I did. Now I’m hungry, though. That forest was tricky.”

“I’ll take you out for ramen if you’ll tell me everything that happened.”

“Deal,” Naruto agreed happily.


	19. 18 - Sea Shells by the Sea Shore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter dedicated to all my readers - hope you're all having a good day. Just got some great news so life is awesome.
> 
> Side note: I am now abusing my rights as author to absolutely make stuff up regarding techniques and their effects. Creative license FTW.

Taking Naruto out for ramen proved to be the most stressful meal Itachi had ever had – between the ‘weird, creepy snake guy’ who attacked them, to the ‘funny looking mark on Sasuke’s neck’, Itachi didn’t think he’d ever felt so unsettled talking to a genin.

Naruto chirped happily, seemingly unaware of any danger, devouring food and not sparing any details – specifically in his fight against Inuzuka Kiba, which he was often pointing out his victory in. He spoke guardedly of the three shinobi from the Sand, and looked subdued when he explained that ‘Fuzzy Eyebrows’ had been hurt very badly.

“I should go check on Sasuke,” Itachi said eventually, after Naruto had rambled for an hour or so.

Naruto paused then, tilting his head and looking at Itachi curiously. “He’s lucky, you know?”

“What?”

“To have a brother like you. He complains about you, but he’s lucky . . . to have a family.” Naruto dropped his gaze down to the table. “To have someone who’s proud of him. And . . . waits for him to come home. He’s lucky to have a family.”

_I lost his family . . ._ “You have him, now. Your team will become like a family to you.”

Naruto shrugged. “I guess.”

“Please,” Itachi said, waiting until Naruto looked at him again. “Look after him. He needs friends. He needs another family, apart from me. He needs someone he can rely on. Don’t turn your back on him.”

“I won’t,” Naruto promised. There was something in the way he said it that made Itachi believe him wholeheartedly, and it warmed him from the inside.

“You’ll be a good Hokage.”

Naruto blinked at him. “You actually believe I can do it?”

“Yes.” Itachi looked at him slightly curiously. “That’s your dream, isn’t it?”

“Yeah . . .” Naruto frowned slightly. “Most people say it’s impossible. Only Iruka-sensei thinks I can do it. No one else believes me.”

“I believe you,” Itachi said quietly. “I have an impossible dream, too. I’d like to see yours overlap with mine.” _And you’ll do it_ , Itachi added silently. Naruto was stubborn and too bull-headed to know when to give up. Itachi had no doubt he would get to wherever he wanted to go. If Itachi wasn’t able to become Hokage, for any reason at all, he knew Naruto would be just as good.

Naruto was staring at him with a slightly awed expression.

“Good luck for the rest of the exams,” Itachi said, standing up, now anxious to see Sasuke. “And hold tightly to your dream.”

“I will . . .” Naruto remained staring after him.

Itachi left with a smile. _He’s a nice kid. I hope he and Sasuke remain friends._

 

Kakashi was sitting on the windowsill reading – Itachi frowned – and didn’t bother glancing up as Itachi entered the hospital room, moving swiftly to Sasuke’s side. The boy was breathing shallowly, looking slightly feverish.

“Is he alright?” Itachi asked hesitantly.

“Hm?” Kakashi glanced at him, then at Sasuke. “Oh, he’s fine. He’s just resting.” Kakashi looked at his book again. “Once he wakes up, I’m taking him for training.”

“What happened?” Itachi peered at the seal on Sasuke’s neck. “Is that sealed correctly?”

“I did it myself.”

“That’s a curse mark, isn’t it?” Itachi said, sounding reserved.

“You’ve seen it before?” Kakashi asked.

“Only in research. Can’t you get rid of it completely?” He resisted the urge to touch it, wanting to cover it up and maybe pretend it wasn’t there, but he was too practical to believe that for long. “I don’t want it on him.”

“He’ll be fine.”

“Do you know what that does?” Itachi asked. When Kakashi didn’t answer, he elaborated, sounding rather peeved. “It will mess with his mind. Those things amplify certain characteristics.”

“Only if he wants to use it,” Kakashi said reasonably. “It won’t do a damn thing unless he wants it to.”

That was not a decision Itachi wanted Sasuke to have control of. He loved his brother without equal, but the Uchiha clan was known for its tendency towards violence, power and hatred. Itachi was concerned, because Sasuke was definitely an Uchiha, down to his strange inclination to be more powerful than Itachi. He was worried that the lure of more power would be too much. Sasuke was strong-willed and determined, but the temptation might be too great to ignore. Things between them had been so good lately; Itachi didn’t want anything threatening that.

“It was Orochimaru, wasn’t it?” Itachi asked softly. “Is he back?”

“I can’t say for certain. I didn’t see him.”

Itachi wondered what purpose the man could possibly have coming back into Konoha. “Do you think he’s targeting Sasuke?”

“He has always been . . . _interested_ . . . in you Uchiha boys.” Kakashi considered. “We’ll keep an eye out.”

Itachi frowned. “Maybe Sasuke should come home with me.” _I can protect him._

“Nope,” Kakashi snapped his book shut. “I’m taking him for the month. We have some things to learn.”

“Wait, the month?” Itachi repeated, shell-shocked. “You can’t take him for that long.”

“Pretty sure I can,” Kakashi came to stand beside Itachi. “You want him to make Chuunin, don’t you? I need this month. I have a lot to teach him.”

Itachi still looked hesitant. He didn’t know if he was ready for a month alone. With Sasuke gone, and Shisui away in Mist, the house would be silent. He wasn’t comfortable with the silence. “I miss him.”

Kakashi stayed tactfully silent. Itachi leaned over his brother, pressing his forehead to Sasuke’s in a familiar motion. Itachi just wanted this moment to last. He wasn’t ready for Sasuke to grow up. He didn’t think he would ever be ready.

He let out a shaky breath. “Look after him.”

Kakashi nodded. “I will. You won’t have to worry.”

_But I will . . ._

 

Kakashi did not spirit Sasuke away the moment the younger brother opened his eyes. He deposited him in Itachi’s office first, cheerfully bursting the door open without warning – Itachi had ‘find a lock’ listed second on his to do list after the exams – and announcing, “I’ll pick him up in a minute, just stopping to get supplies.”

Which left Itachi sitting bewildered behind his desk, with a disoriented and confused little brother standing blankly in the centre of the room, looking as though he had no idea how he got there.

Itachi recovered first. “Are you alright? How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” Sasuke replied, somewhat faintly. The last thing he remembered was waking up, mind slightly scrambled, before Kakashi had whooshed him away without warning. “What just happened?”

There was a sense of relief flooding through Itachi. “Kakashi wants to take you away for a while for training. Until the next phase of the exams. I just . . . are you sure you’re alright?”

Itachi approached his brother, peering at the mark on his neck. It was innocently contained by Kakashi’s jutsu.

Sasuke laid a hand over the mark. “This is hurts sometimes.”

“I’ll figure out how to get rid of it. You don’t need it.”

Still reeling slightly, Sasuke nodded. “Okay . . . if you say so . . .”

Itachi was struck by a sudden, burning desire to envelop his brother in a hug and never let him go again. Shisui had barely been gone a week, but the prospect of an empty house for a month was depressing and quiet, and he wanted to stock up on his fill of hugging before Sasuke left.

Sasuke raised an eyebrow. “You get needy when Shisui’s away.”

“Hug,” Itachi ordered, choosing to ignore Sasuke’s snide jab. “You told me not to worry, but you ended up in the hospital. This is payment for the anxiety I went through.”

“You knew I would be fine,” Sasuke grumbled, trying to sound affronted. But even while he spoke he resignedly opened his arms. “Everyone told you it was nothing. I was just tired, from the forest. And over using my Sharingan. And dealing with Naruto.”

Itachi huffed into Sasuke’s hair. “Right. Just that.”

“He’s impossible; have you ever spent prolonged time with him? He’s such a dork . . .”

Itachi smiled. “I know.” He was very fond of Naruto, oddly drawn to the blonde boy who talked too fast, and too much, and announced his every thought to everyone he met. The boy was the complete opposite of Sasuke, and Itachi thought the contrast was good.

Kakashi’s return was heralded by a whooshing sound and a wry chuckle. “Sasuke, quit snuggling, we’ve got work to do.”

Sasuke pulled away from Itachi with a sigh. “Next time you see me,” he said seriously, “I’ll be Chuunin level.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Itachi glanced at Kakashi. “Look after him properly.”

“I have to,” Kakashi said. “Otherwise you’ll never let me forget it. You whine, and fixate, and-”

“That’s enough,” Itachi interrupted. “All I ask is that you’re careful.”

Sasuke smiled. It was insufferably smug. “I’m always careful.”

“But _he_ isn’t,” Itachi sent a pointed look in Kakashi’s direction.

“Oh, _I’m sorry_ ,” Kakashi rolled his eye. “How many missions did I get you killed on? None, if I remember correctly.”

“Just because I survived didn’t mean you were careful.”

“There is such a thing as being over cautious, you know.”

“Being who I am got me this far.” Itachi raised an eyebrow. “Seems like I’m doing fine.”

“Yeah.” Kakashi shrugged. “We better leave you to your paperwork, and obsessing. Sasuke, let’s go.”

Sasuke nodded shortly. He flicked his eyes to Itachi. “I’ll be fine.” There was steel in his tone, absolute conviction, a resolve to do better, to be better, and that determination eased Itachi’s worry. Sasuke was too good now to let something small take him down. He had grown exponentially as a ninja, and there was no reason to worry constantly. He was self-sufficient, with good judgement, and possessing more skill than most his age.

“I’ll catch up to you,” Sasuke said resolutely. “And we’ll be equals as shinobi.”

“I look forward to that.” Itachi smiled at him fondly.

There was a knock on the door, short and sharp, that interrupted them.

“That’s Sugaru,” Itachi said, glancing at the door. “I called him for a meeting.”

“We’ll get out of your hair then,” Kakashi said. “See you in a month.”

“Bye, Nii-san,” Sasuke said confidently.

“Bye, little brother. Be safe.”

Sugaru entered quietly, nodding shortly at Kakashi and Sasuke as they left. Once they were alone again, he asked in his rough voice, “You called for me, Captain?”

“Yes.” Itachi made his way to sit down behind his desk again. “It’s about the masked man. You and I are the only ones who know about him at the moment. I don’t want anyone to panic until we have more answers. I need you to do some research for me.”

“Regarding what?”

“Resurrection techniques. I am fairly certain I know what is being planned. I need to know how to stop it.”

“You would trust me with such a confidential task?” Sugaru sounded surprised, and Itachi knew why. Sugaru, as a former Foundation member, was not trusted by anyone within Anbu, or even within the Leaf. He was shady, and secretive. But that was merely due to his quiet personality. Itachi knew he was deathly loyal; and would fulfil any given task without question.

He was also the shinobi responsible for the explosive kunai that had crippled Shisui for months. Itachi knew it, Shisui didn’t.

“If you betray me,” Itachi said quietly. “I will kill you.”

“I know.”

“That’s why I’m entrusting you with this. No one will suspect you of knowing this information, and no one will attempt to extract it from you.”

“You suspect someone inside the village is working with the masked man?”

“No. I just want my bases covered if anyone outside wants to know how much I know. The masked man knows I’m working to uncover his plan. If anything happens to me, you’ll be able to save the Leaf.”

Sugaru nodded shortly.

Itachi drew in a breath. “He is an Uchiha. He is supposed to be dead. And he wants me to believe he is Uchiha Madara. I know he’s not, but seeing as I already have one dead Uchiha clearly alive, I can assume that resurrecting Madara is part of the plan. And if one shinobi can be resurrected, there may be more. An attack on the Leaf would require an army.”

“Why attack the Leaf?”

“Personal vendetta. Revenge. I haven’t figured out exactly what the motive is. But whatever it is, _when_ ever it is,” Itachi spoke seriously. “We will be ready.”

 

Itachi had a month alone, and he was using it wisely.

His first self-appointed mission was learning everything he could about the cursed seal on Sasuke’s neck, because he wanted it gone, and needed to know how. The research was not encouraging, spouting tales of shinobi losing their minds, giving in to their anger, being driven to madness by the seal and its thirst for power.

It was especially concerning because Itachi knew Sasuke wanted that – power, more of it, enough to overcome him and stand on his own as a ninja. The moment Itachi had a chance, he was going to eradicate that seal completely. He wasn’t going to take the risk of having it delve into Sasuke’s mind and change him, not when the two of them were finally starting to rebuild their relationship.

The threat of the masked man – whoever he thought he was – was always at the back of his mind. Itachi knew he wasn’t strong enough to defeat him one on one, at least, not as things stood now. And since he knew there would be more than one, he needed to improve himself. But he had a plan in mind, one he had been considering since the day they first spoke, one that had been gently set into action already. It was a difficult plan, though, with layers and layers to it, and he needed to be properly equipped for it.

He spent hours doing research, making notes, trying to figure out an exact plan of action, both from his side and from the masked man’s side. Even more hours were spent training. There were several techniques he needed, that had to be perfected and tweaked, and he sought help where it was needed. The master plan was an amalgamation of many jutsus, and he needed every single one of them to be second nature, easy to use, thoroughly perfected.

He worked hard, using Konoha’s diversity to his advantage. He spent time learning alongside the Nara and Yamanaka clans, seeking the clan heads for training, and advice. He increased the hours of training for the Anbu, keeping everyone just as sharp as he wanted to be. Every flaw he could find in himself was ironed out. Every technique, movement, strategy, was analysed, torn apart, improved.

Two weeks had passed when Izumi sought him out at the Uchiha training grounds, waiting patiently while he relentlessly flung kunai at targets, focusing on speed, every move blindly fast. He stopped when he noticed her, looking somewhat startled to see her.

“Hey,” he said, a little breathlessly. He had been working hard, and he was tired now, skin shining with sweat. He ran one hand along his forehead, pushing his hair back. It fell back into place, hanging in damp locks.

“It’s been two weeks since I saw you last. This is your mandatory reminder to take a break once in a while,” Izumi explained, smiling at him.

Itachi chuckled briefly. “Did Shisui put you up to this?”

“Yes, he did. But even if he hadn’t, I know how hard you’ve been working.” Her smile broadened. “Come and eat something. Then you can get back to whatever you’re doing.”

He nodded. “Alright, I will. You’re a lot nicer about asking than Shisui is.” Shisui had been known to physically drag Itachi away when he wanted him – Izumi lacked the strength but probably not the determination. Itachi saved her trouble, though, following without further protest into Konoha.

They discussed the Chuunin exams over lunch, considering strategies, discussing the Konoha genin and debating who would advance.

“The Nara kid,” Itachi said.

“No way,” Izumi replied. “He’s so lazy, he’ll never make Chuunin.”

“He will.”

“If he makes Chuunin, they all better, because he’s probably the least talented amongst them.”

“You’re wrong.” There was a small smile on Itachi’s face.

“Want to bet on it?”

“Fine.” Itachi was not usually one to gamble, or bet, or do anything without careful calculation, but it was different with Izumi, and there were no stakes here. It was just for fun.

“I’ll bet you lunch that he doesn’t make it. Loser pays.”

“Deal,” Itachi agreed.

They lingered together after lunch. It had been a long time since there had been time for the two of them to spend time together, without rushing, without pressure, just the day whiling away while they re-established a friendship that was probably one of the more neglected facets of Itachi’s life.

They wandered Konoha together, talking on occasion, lapsing into companionable silence, and the afternoon sun was getting low when Itachi finally sighed. “I should get back to work.”

“Not more training, surely?”

“Yes. I have a lot to work on.”

Izumi looked like she didn’t believe him. With a slightly rueful smile, she asked, “Need some company?”

Itachi hesitated.

“I know I’m nowhere near your level,” Izumi said softly. “But I know you get lonely on your own. And there’s no one at home with you. At the very least, I’ll be an amusing target.”

Itachi chuckled. “I wouldn’t mind the company. Maybe we can go through some different techniques. It’s always good to have a second set of eyes around when training.”

Izumi lit up, and Itachi smiled. He enjoyed spending time with her. She was his only friend his own age, and it was nice spending time with someone who had no expectations of him, who applied no pressure during their interactions. She was a peaceful reverie in his life.

“Just,” Izumi tucked some hair behind an ear. “Go easy on me, okay?”

“Well,” he speculated. “I can’t go easy on you . . . you wouldn’t learn anything.”

“If I can still walk afterwards, I’ll take you out for dango.”

“Hm.” He considered. Izumi was still smiling, and the entire day felt unusually light hearted and frivolous. With a small nod, coy smile, he conceded, “Yes, I like that idea.”

 

There was a letter from Shisui sitting on his desk one morning, and he smiled warmly at the envelope before opening it.

_I know you’re missing me_ (The crude illustration that followed was meant to be a smiley face, Itachi assumed)

_Things are going well here. We’re getting a lot done. Aruku says hi. I don’t have much to say, but I thought you’d like a letter anyway. I’ll be home about a week after the stadium matches, I think. Anyway, I found you a sea shell. It was the reddest one I could find. Hope you like it._

_See you in a few weeks_

_Love you_

_Happy birthday_

Nestled in the bottom of the envelope was a little, blood-red clam shell. It was mounted on a thong of black leather. Itachi picked it up to study it. The shell was small, barely larger than the top of his thumb, and the light caught the shining surface.

Shaking his head at the embarrassingly fond rush of affection that went through him, Itachi tied the little shell around his neck.


	20. 19 - Konoha Crush

The day of the stadium matches dawned bright and clear.

Itachi’s Anbu were briefed, ready, and largely complaining about not being posted in the stadium.

Itachi started his day in his office, staring out across the village and wondering nervously where his brother was. Kakashi had not brought him back yet. Itachi had not expected them to leave things so late.

“Zo,” Itachi said, banishing the thoughts and turning to look at the Anbu captain present. “You’ve got a team of six other Anbu with you during the matches. Will that be enough?”

“More than enough, Captain.” Zo replied with a slight nod.

“I’ll have another team forming a perimeter around the stadium, and the rest of Anbu are scattered around Konoha to keep watch, mostly on the border.”

“Where will you be?”

“The top of the Hokage building,” Itachi explained. “I can see most of the village from there, and all the teams can signal for help if its needed.”

The other Anbu had already dispersed; all sitting in position.

With another short nod, Zo disappeared from the room, and Itachi glanced at the sun’s position outside. It was almost time for the matches to start. He was still regretting not being able to watch the fights; he had wanted to see how Sasuke did, especially after a month with Kakashi’s tutelage, but unfortunately his duties came before his wants. _Provided they showed up_ , he thought, and cursed Kakashi’s constant lateness. He had expected them home days ago.

He made his way to the top of the Hokage building, checking the position of each Anbu team with a specific flare of chakra, and once he was satisfied everyone was in position – each reply flared back with precision- and the exams could go ahead without a hitch, he sat down on the roof, settling into a meditative stance.

The day wore on without incident. Itachi was almost relaxed, although still alert, when he felt the first tremors. The roof beneath him rumbled softly, just enough for him to notice. He lifted his head with a frown, wondering what was happening. In the next moment, the whole ground shook, and he saw dust rise from the very edge of the village.

_Perimeter breach_ , he thought instantly, leaping to his feet. The border team had, puzzlingly, not called him for backup, but he wasn’t going to wait. His masked clicked into place, and he took off across the village, speeding across rooftops to the source of the disturbance. The dust was still rising, and it was with a deep, sinking feeling that he realised it was the village wall that was crumbling under some unspeakable force.

The force proved to be several enormous snakes, battering their way into the village at various points along the border. Itachi was not yet in striking range, but he saw the wall crumble down, huge chunks falling into the village, crushing buildings below, and then a wave of shinobi from outside leapt the broken perimeter. Konoha was being invaded.

His Sharingan flashed, catching information in a split second. They were Sand and Sound shinobi, heavily armed and clearly on the attack, and why hadn’t the border team called? Why hadn’t they reported this instantly?

He reached the edge of the village, sword drawn, anger riding high, and barely touched the ground before he had to leap away again as the thick tail of a massive snake slashed into the space he had occupied, raising dust and chunks of dirt. Within seconds, he was surrounded, weapons flying at him from all sides. He deflected their attacks, flicking chakra in the border team pattern. It was demanding and precise, unable to be mistaken for anything but a clear command – _Where are you? What happened?_

He received no reply.

_They can’t be dead_. He cut through the clump of shinobi around him. The Konoha ninja were starting to appear, Jounin flying into position to help defend the border. _It took less than five minutes for me to get here._ Itachi flared again. There was still no reply.

Two Sound shinobi fell to the ground the instant Itachi looked at them, Sharingan whirling into life.

There was a flicker to his left, and Sugaru blurred into existence. The impassive Anbu mask stared right through Itachi.

“Captain!” Sugaru’s rough voice was urgent. “They need you at the stadium. The Hokage has been taken hostage.”

Itachi froze for half a second, mind churning possibilities.

“Go,” Asuma said. Itachi hadn’t noticed his arrival. “We’ve got this.”

Itachi nodded once, flashing away. He flickered to the stadium, coming to a halt when he caught sight of the impregnable-looking wall on the roof. There was a scattering of anxious Anbu around it, looking helplessly on. A battle was raging inside it, neatly contained.

“Can you break it?” Zo asked with a slight quiver in his voice, sending a brief glance at Itachi.

Itachi’s Sharingan eyes were already looking for any sort of weakness. He had never seen this jutsu before. “I don’t know what this is . . .”

He pulled his mask off. It wouldn’t make a difference, but he wanted to see as clearly as he could. The wall was thick and hazy, distorting whatever was happening inside, making it difficult to track the movements of the fight.

“We haven’t been able to break through,” Zo said. “Nothing works. Can you burn through it?”

_Probably_. “Not with the Hokage inside. We don’t know what will happen.” Amaterasu was a powerful weapon, but Itachi couldn’t always be certain of how it would burn. The danger existed that everything contained within the wall would be burnt as well.

He could see no weakness, no way inside, or through. And standing here staring at it would not change anything. He was not helpful looking on in confusion; he needed to be doing something.

There was another loud crash from inside the village; the sound made Itachi’s blood run cold. He was torn, wanting to get inside this mysterious wall to help his Hokage, but equally agonising to protect his village from its sudden assault. He remained still for a second, making decisions. The village came first, above everything, because in it were many lives. Civilians and children needed to be evacuated, and standing here would not help.

“Stay here,” he ordered Zo. “Do whatever you can. Sugaru,” he spoke sharply.

The former Foundation member was at his side in a second.

“I’m going to defend the village,” he said. “Remain with Zo, and try to find a way through this.”

“Yes, Captain.”

It was all he could do for now. With a hesitant glance, Itachi flashed away, heading for the sounds of explosions. He assessed the village in a glance, from high atop a roof, and pinpointed several targets, including several massive snakes. They were destroying all they could, rampaging and raging, and it made his blood boil.

Passionate and deadly, he leapt into the fray, eyes flashing red, sword angled ready.

_Get the hell out of my village!_ He swung once, body perfectly balanced and aimed, and one snake was suddenly sliced in half, falling to the ground with a crash, buildings splintering around it.

He was furious, and fighting like a demon, cutting through everything, because there were people in his village, the _wrong_ people trying to _destroy_ it, and he didn’t think he had ever been this angry in his life. He was a whirlwind, flickering throughout the village, and most shinobi he faced were cut down within seconds.

“We need to push them back,” he heard Shikaku yell, somewhere in the fray.

_I’m not pushing them back, I’m cutting them all down,_ he thought savagely. He didn’t care about finesse. Years of Anbu duty had taught him to kill cleanly, but now he forewent any sort of compassion, going for the most effective methods of disposal.

A shower of hot blood burst from a shinobi, the Sound village forehead protector on him. Itachi wiped one arm across his eyes, blinking blood away. There were more targets attacking, converging on him all at once. He was calculating, figuring out how to take down so many at once, when Izumi flashed to his side, dispatching shinobi neatly.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Always.” Itachi’s red eyes narrowed. “I need you at the stadium. I need Sharingan on that wall. I need to know what it is, and how to break it.”

She nodded shortly. “On my way.”

“Stay safe.”

She flashed him a small smile. “Always.” She was gone in an instant, and Itachi took a second to look around.

Shikaku had this area under control, and Itachi leapt away, Sharingan flicking and picking out targets with deadly accuracy.

The Uchiha compound was near the edge of the village, and Itachi had already spotted several of his clan leaping in to help, others falling into the familiar old roles of the police force, protecting and escorting civilians to safety. The village may have been taken by surprise by the force of the attack, but they were not overwhelmed, and the fighting was turning in the Leaf’s favour.

He didn’t know how long the battle went on for, but he knew how many enemies he slaughtered. The blade of his sword was thick with blood by the time Sugaru flared his chakra, calling Itachi, and the young Captain flickered away, back to the stadium, heart in his throat and ready now to re-double his efforts to free his Hokage.

“Any change?” he asked.

Sugaru and Zo both took a step back from him, eying the blood drenching his body. Izumi looked unbothered by it. “I can’t find a way in.”

“We can’t just stand by and watch,” Zo said anxiously, but it looked as though that was all they could do.

Anko joined them moments later. “Village is secured, Mini Captain.”

Itachi let the moniker slide.

“Children and civilians have all been escorted to safety. There are a few enemy ninja still remaining, but we’re hunting them down.” Anko inclined her head towards the wall in front of them. “Any bright ideas?”

“No.” Itachi had no idea what to do. Zo was looking to him anxiously. There were four Sound ninja maintaining the wall from the inside, and the battle that had been going on had seemed to slow down – Itachi recognised Orochimaru inside, battling the Hokage. He had dealt with the man on occasion before, as a young child. _Why are you here? What do you want in my village?_

“Mini Captain.”

“Not ‘mini’,” Itachi snapped, unwilling to let it go twice.

It was Ibiki who had spoken, coming to stand beside him. “We’ve detained a few enemy shinobi, for interrogation purposes. They are claiming the plan was Orochimaru’s; that they were only following orders. Seems like the Sand was convinced to join them.”

“I would like to talk to them as well.” Itachi chanced a glance away from his Hokage and back towards his village. There was a lingering sense of unease, the fading sounds of battles. “Zo, call me if anything changes here. That wall must come down eventually, and we will not allow them to escape. Sugaru,” Itachi snapped his eyes towards the quiet man. “Gather the rest of the Anbu. Surround this. No matter what happens, Orochimaru will not leave this village. I’ll find a medic team to send here, the Hokage will need help. Ibiki,” Itachi spoke softly. “Where are the prisoners detained?”

“Interrogation, at Anbu headquarters.”

He nodded shortly. “I won’t be far away. I’ll get the answers we need. All eyes on the Hokage, and any change – let me know immediately.” He turned and began to leap away, mind still racing. Maybe he could figure out how to break the wall. Maybe one of the captured shinobi knew the technique, or at least how to nullify it. Maybe he could find out something helpful.

He did not get very far. Izumi followed, and he paused to ask what she wanted.

“What are you going to do?” She sounded hesitant.

“Save my Hokage.”

“Itachi . . .”

He waited, impatiently. When she didn’t speak again, he turned to leave.

“I . . .”

Whatever Izumi was going to say was never to be heard. There was a resounding shudder from the stadium, and Itachi spun around to see the impenetrable wall beginning to crumble down. In the same second, he felt Zo’s signature flare of chakra to get his attention.

He didn’t wait; he was gone in an instant, returning to the stadium as fast as he could. He didn’t know if Izumi followed him back; he had eyes only for the scene unfolding before him.

The assembled Anbu were already knotted around the Hokage – one problem solved – but the four Sound shinobi who had been supporting the wall had surrounded Orochimaru, and were trying to move him away to safety. His movements seemed compromised; he was an easy target.

Itachi closed in, hand flashing to grip his sword again, and pull it free. The four ninja saw him coming, three surrounded Orochimaru more securely, and the entire unit was moving across the rooftops towards the battered border of the village. The fourth ninja detached briefly from the group, hurling a number of kunai towards Itachi, each one flying an exploding tag behind it.

Itachi knocked most of them aside with one sweep of his blade, ducking another and dropping into the streets below to avoid the last. It exploded above him with a dull crack. Before the smoke had cleared, Itachi had leapt up again, bright red eyes seeking out Orochimaru, violently determined to stop his escape.

_You are not getting away_. Itachi flashed after them, anger still riding high. The Sound Four tried to stop his pursuit, sending a barrage of attacks his way, all of which he deflected easily and impatiently. He was far too honed for battle to allow anything to catch him off guard.

There were very few Sound ninja still in the village, most defeated, but the few that remained rallied around Orochimaru, descending upon Itachi as a small army, trying to allow for the escape of their leader. Itachi took less than a minute to cut his way through them, but the distance between him and Orochimaru was growing.

He increased his speed, trying to catch up. They were getting too close to the village’s borders, and Itachi didn’t want to lose them into the surrounding trees. If he could catch just one of them in Tsukiyomi, that would slow them down.

A huge snake suddenly reared its head directly in his path, and Itachi swerved to avoid it. It swung its tail, the massive thing arcing through the air and trying to crush him. Itachi’s blade swung, cutting into the snake’s thick flesh. Blood spurted from the wound, but the serpent did not slow down, continuing to twist and change Itachi’s path. Every second counted, and he slashed again, incensed at being blocked.

Wounded and bleeding, the snake did not abate its assault, twisting its massive body around him. Furious, and aware that time was important, Itachi’s hands flashed quickly through seals, and a powerful Katon fireball erupted into the air, engulfing the writhing serpent. It continued to block him, movements frantic with pain, and the smell of blood and flesh curdling and burning took over everything else.

Finally, the snake became still.

Itachi checked the position of his targets. They were nowhere to be been, and he couldn’t feel their chakra at all.

Out of range, perhaps? He was atop the border wall of Konoha in two leaps, scanning the surrounding forests. There was no sign of anyone. No movement, no whisper of chakra.

He needed to follow now, before they had a chance to get too far away –

“Itachi.”

He was preparing to launch into the forest when Anko’s voice stopped him. He glanced back at her. She was bruised and out of breath. “I need to follow them. I need to kill him.”

“Captain.” She so rarely called him by his rank, it was always something else, something more casual, more familiar, and her seriousness made him pause. She shook her head. “They need you at the stadium. The Hokage . . .”


	21. 20 - Far Reaching Consequences

There was an unsettling calm that followed. The whole village was silent.

Itachi stood amongst the wreckage, without a mark on him, save for gallons of blood that did not belong to him, while the rest of Anbu picked their way around. His left arm hurt slightly. He assumed he strained it.

The body count had been rising steadily. The entire perimeter squad had been taken out, and Itachi’s elite force had been cut nearly in half. He had been ticking names off in his head as the evening wore on, numbers increasing.

He hadn’t finished counting the number of Uchiha who had stepped into the fray, and lost their lives as well. He knew Izumi was safe; for now, he gripped to that fact fiercely. He didn’t know what he would have done if she had been badly hurt, or worse. His clan had suffered, the entire village had suffered.

And they had lost their Hokage.

“I’m sorry.”

Itachi didn’t move, but Zo edged closer. The squad captain had been tasked with protecting the Hokage during the exams.

“I failed you.”

“It wasn’t your fault. It was mine.” Itachi’s blood red eyes finally darkened to black. “I should have foreseen this. I should have been ready.”

The sun was beginning to set.

A few more Anbu crept towards him, unsure of what to do next. They were waiting for orders. Itachi had none to give. He had nothing – his village had been violated, his forces almost destroyed, his dream torn into shreds. There was blood on his hands like never before, from a mistake so costly that it had taken their leader from them.

_It’s my fault_ , he thought again, bitter and angry. He stared at the pile of bodies nearby, enemy shinobi taken down by his Anbu. So many of them, so well prepared that they had been able to almost crush the Leaf. The entire situation made his blood boil, and it didn’t seem enough to just have the rigid bodies of those who opposed him thrown into a heap. He wanted revenge. He wanted payback.

In a blink, his eyes flashed red once again, and the mound of slowly cooling bodies erupted into black flames.

He stalked away, leaving the smoke and ash to cover the battlefield.

 

The sky was dark by the time Sasuke came home, eyes down. Itachi was waiting outside, because no one had known where Sasuke had gone, and in the confusion and madness of the day, Itachi hadn’t been able to track him down. So, he waited, feeling calmer now, even relieved when his brother came home.

Sasuke did not greet him. He moved slowly past, his movements indicating a hard battle fought, and Itachi wondered where he had been.

“Are you alright?” he asked, as Sasuke slunk past.

“I’m fine.”

Itachi wasn’t fine, he was still reeling from the day, and having Sasuke missing was still a raw wound. Now that he was home, and safe, Itachi was too relieved to let the moment go.

“You shouldn’t have run off like that,” Itachi said, feeling the need to chastise softly. “I didn’t know where you were.” _And I was worried._

“Oh my god,” Sasuke turned on him, face contorted in anger – what had happened while he was away? “I don’t need you baby-sitting me every second, you know. I can go wherever I like. I can do whatever I want.”

Sasuke’s hostility was surprising, and for a moment Itachi was struck into silence. He answered cautiously, “I just want to know that you’re safe.”

“Fuck it, Itachi, I can function without your constant supervision.” Sasuke shouted, all raw passion and fury – where was it coming from? “I’m not going to fall apart if you’re not within earshot.”

“I-“

“Just shut up, I’m so tired of listening to you. You don’t believe I can do anything. You think I’m still a child.”

“Sasuke-“

“I’ll be better than you one day. I’ll surpass you, and then I’ll never have to hear, ever again, how you were always better.” Unconsciously, Sasuke’s hand moved to his neck, covering the seal. It felt like it was burning, but he ignored it. “I’ll gain more power than you ever will. I’ll never, ever lose to you, or anyone else, again. I’m done with you, I’m done with this family. I’m done with this village!”

Itachi stayed quiet, feeling his insides twist unnervingly. His eyes were on Sasuke’s hand, and it gave him all the answers he needed. It was the reason Sasuke was so angry right now, the reason for his unusual behaviour. This wasn’t Sasuke, this was the cursed seal. _I need to get rid of that seal. It’s changing him._

“This place is weak, it’s holding me back. I’m getting out of here. I’m leaving!” He ripped his forehead protector off his head, staring at it with narrowed eyes.

“Don’t,” Itachi said. “Sasuke, don’t.”

“Everything here is a joke. Your dream is a joke, it’s nonsense. It will never happen. There will never be peace in this world. There will always be fighting, and I will gain the power I need to survive it. But I won’t find it here, so I’m gone.”

“You set foot outside this village without permission and you’re a rogue ninja,” Itachi warned. “Don’t do it.” _Please, Sasuke, I can’t lose you . . . This isn’t you, this isn’t what you want!_

“I’ll do whatever I have to, to surpass you. To surpass everyone. I’m sick of being second best, and it ends here.” His grip on his forehead protector tightened, the edges dug into his skin.

“Sasuke, you can’t do this. Think about this sensibly.”

“I have thought about it. Living in your shadow, in the village’s shadow, in the shadow of so many other shinobi. I won’t do it anymore. I will be the one people think of when they hear the name Uchiha. Not _you_ ,” he spat viciously. “And I will do whatever it takes to achieve that power, and whatever it takes to overcome you.” The burning intensified in his neck; it was painful and he was acutely aware of it, but he didn’t try to will it away. He couldn’t.

Itachi drew back. “I won’t fight you.”

Sasuke’s face darkened. “You will. You will, because next time I face you, it will be to the very end – to the _death_ if that’s what it takes to prove to you that I’m not some child who can’t fend for himself.” Every heart beat made the seal burn hotter, the pain almost maddening, clouding out rational thought.

He turned away, and Itachi took a step after him.

“Don’t follow me,” Sasuke snarled over his shoulder. “I told you – I don’t need you. I don’t need you following me and getting in my way all the time. Leave me alone, go fuck off and spend time with Shisui since he’s the only person you care about anymore.”

Itachi froze in place. “I don’t-“

“Shut up,” Sasuke yelled, voice rising in pitch and intensity. “Just stop talking, I don’t want to hear your excuses and your empty promises. Just get out my life and let me live my own.” He glared over his shoulder, eyes flashing red for a moment.

Itachi didn’t move, blindsided and confused.

A moment of silence lingered between them, then Sasuke turned away, flashing into the night without warning. Itachi stayed rooted to the spot, staring after him, feeling completely helpless.

When he gathered hit wits enough to move, he sat down heavily on the porch.

 

_It’s the cursed seal. I’m going to get rid of it. I will not watch it take my brother away from me_. Itachi was brooding, eyes gleaming red, in the darkness of the night. The compound was surprisingly quiet, from the sombre mood and the fact that several Uchiha had lost their lives defending the village.

He felt Sasuke approach. Itachi stood up to face him.

Sasuke’s face was still creased in a frown. “Hey.”

“Are you alright?” Itachi asked quietly. He didn’t want to provoke; he didn’t know what would set the seal off, and he wasn’t emotionally ready for a fight against his brother.

“No,” Sasuke said darkly. The burning on his neck had not abated. He had prowled the village for hours looking for relief, and so far nothing had changed. He was irritable, and on edge, and in pain and the cloudy fog in his mind directed that anger at the nearest target. “I’m not okay, because today showed me how little I’ve accomplished.”

Itachi waited guardedly.

“You’ve protected me, and coddled me, and it’s made me weak. And I can’t be weak. I need to be strong. Like the others . . .”

_What others?_ Itachi wondered.

“Other shinobi, from other villages, who are the same age as me and so much stronger,” Sasuke seethed. His fight with Gaara was fresh in his mind, the defeat bitter in his throat. “Because they live in a village without peace, a village full of danger, and it makes them _stronger_.”

“Sasuke, there is more to life than just strength.”

“I’m weak, and it’s your fault!” Sasuke snapped. “It’s all your fault, because you’re trying to build a world full of peace and safety, and this village is naïve and tranquil. And peace makes us weak! I’ll never be better than you if there’s peace, if your dream comes true.” There was a shifting, a flow of something beneath his skin and the burning in his neck peaked, small black flame-like markings began to slide across his skin.

Itachi was quiet, watching. His red eyes noted the marks on Sasuke’s skin, analysing and tracking their movements.

“I need to close the gap between us. I need to be better. I need to overcome you – I need to be stronger!”

_That’s not you, Sasuke. That’s not what you think, or want. I know it’s not you._ “Why?” Itachi asked. “Why can’t you just be yourself, why do you have to overtake me?”

“Because you let them _die_!” Sasuke screamed.

Itachi drew back. _I didn’t . . . let them . . ._ “Sasuke . . .”

“You let Mom and Dad die, right in front of you, and you didn’t change anything! Why weren’t you ready? Why weren’t you strong enough? Why did you let everything bad happen?” His voice cracked slightly. “You were weak, for _one_ second, and look what happened! That’s why I’ll never be weak again. That’s why I need to be stronger than you – because you fucked up and we lost our family!”

_But you still have me. . ._ “I’m sorry. I tried.”

“And it wasn’t enough. You aren’t as perfect as everyone says. You aren’t the perfect ninja because you couldn’t do one thing, the one thing that we needed . . . and I don’t want to be like you!”

Sasuke took a moment to draw in breath, reloading for another verbal assault. The black marks spread further, anger and secret thoughts being drawn out with it. “I’m so sick of being second to you – of being compared to you!” Sasuke yelled. “I’m not you!”

He lunged forwards, control finally snapping, and tried to attack.

Itachi blocked his barrage of hits, deflecting a series of taijutsu attacks. He needed to end this, but he was unwilling to attack. He didn’t want to hurt his brother. He changed the trajectory of Sasuke’s flurry of attacks, keeping them off himself, and carefully avoiding doing any damage in return.

“Stop holding back!” Sasuke snarled. He threw an angered punch towards Itachi’s face; the older brother caught it easily. “I know you’re better than this!”

“I won’t hurt you,” Itachi said.

“I will show you how strong I’ve become!” Sasuke leapt back, putting some distance between them. The black marks were flying faster now, tracing his skin in a burning pattern of wildfire. “I will defeat you right here and now.” His hands flashed through seals. Itachi already knew what it was, and he stood quietly, deciding, while Sasuke formed a snapping ball of chakra in his palm.

Itachi knew Kakashi’s chidori well. He was impressed that Sasuke knew it. Time for being proud would have to come later, when his brother wasn’t hurling a ball of lightning at his face. There was a lot of power behind Sasuke’s charge, but he was reckless, angered and Itachi knocked the attack aside.

_I need to stop him_ , he thought, while Sasuke rounded on him again with a choked scream of frustration. _He’s going to hurt himself before he hurts me._

Within an instant, Itachi had planned his strategy. He had the surrounding area to help him. He would have to replace a door by the time he was finished, but at least Sasuke would stop hurtling at him with blind rage.

The entire attack took less than three seconds. Sasuke dived into range, all common sense apparently erased, and Itachi’s first punch was to his gut, angled upwards just right, pushing the air from his lungs and winding him. As he doubled over, Itachi swung the same arm to land a sharp blow to the back of Sasuke’s head, to disorient him before twisting his body just right, and sending the younger boy flying across the garden towards the half open door.

Sasuke hit the edge of the wood at exactly the angle intended, several chakra points down his back closing from the sudden impact, and his entire flow of chakra was disrupted. He landed without the ability to catch himself, crumpling to the floor like a puppet with the strings cut.

Winded, dazed, and out of power, he sat for a moment, head hanging. The marks receded.

Itachi approached him, fully intending to pick him up and carry him inside. Sasuke caught his breath with a sudden gasp, air finally flying back into his lungs, and he shifted feebly to move away, still keeping his head down. Itachi wondered what he was trying to hide.

“Sasuke,” he spoke softly. “It’s over. Let’s go inside.”

Sasuke swore harshly under his breath. He picked himself up, slowly, angrily knocking Itachi’s arm away when he reached out to help. “I don’t need you.”

Itachi drew back slightly.

“I don’t need anyone,” Sasuke continued shakily. “Not you, or Naruto, or Sakura. You all mean nothing to me. You will never make me stronger. I only need myself.” He took a few uncertain steps, still reeling.

“Come inside,” Itachi said.

“I’m done,” Sasuke snarled. He stumbled across the porch. “Leave me alone.” He paused, one hand on the wooden railing to support himself while he eased air into his lungs. “I’m done,” he repeated. He stood still, catching his breath, gathering himself.

“Sasuke. Even if you hate me,” Itachi said gently. “I’ll always be here for you. Even if it’s just as an obstacle for you to overcome. That’s what brothers are.” _But I’ll always, always love you._

Sasuke scowled over his shoulder. His expression was dark, so full of hate and anger that Itachi hardly recognised him.

_Where did my baby brother go?_ He wondered. He felt a painful tug at his chest, like something precious being ripped away. “I love you, Sasuke. Always will.”

Sasuke’s frown deepened, Itachi saw his jaw clench tightly. He turned his face away, and for a moment Itachi thought maybe he’d turn around, and come inside, and everything would be alright. But Sasuke suddenly hurled a violent kick at the Peace Lily, and flickered away into the night.

The pot fell with a muted crash.

Itachi dropped off the porch to kneel beside it, anxiously following Sasuke’s chakra as it flared away, out of range. His chest hurt again. He carefully gathered the lily up, taking care not to damage any roots, making sure the flowers weren’t broken.

One of them was. The stem was bent in half, unable to be repaired.

He stared after Sasuke, cradling the broken flower in one hand.

 

Sasuke didn’t come home that evening, and Itachi did not go to look for him.

It was the next evening before they saw each other. Itachi was still dealing with the crushing defeat on an attack on his village, and he was lying silently on his bed, staring at the ceiling, when he heard Sasuke come home. Immediately, he got up to find him, feeling as though they had disconnected.

Sasuke was rubbing at his neck, expression pinched in pain, but he lit up when he saw Itachi. “Hey.”

“Are you . . . how are you feeling?” Itachi asked cautiously. Would the same, out of nowhere hostility still be rampaging throughout Sasuke’s system?

“I . . .” Sasuke frowned. He shook his head slightly. “I don’t know. I don’t . . . remember much. What happened yesterday?”

“What do you remember?” Itachi questioned.

“I remember the exams. And I followed the shinobi I was fighting. Gaara. I know I must have fought him, but I don’t remember much. And then . . . I came home . . . I think we spoke?” He sounded unsure. The memories were hazy, blocked by pain and confusion.

“We spoke.” Itachi wondered how much he should divulge. Would reminding Sasuke trigger the seal again? Would it make things worse? Would Sasuke feel guilty?

“Itachi . . .” Sasuke sounded reproachful. “I know it’s only when this thing,” his hand found its way to his neck. “Is around that I can’t remember everything perfectly. What happened when we spoke?”

“We fought.”

Sasuke looked surprised. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.”

“Okay . . .”

“Sasuke, I want to get rid of it. As soon as possible.” It seemed urgent.

There was a shadow that flickered across Sasuke’s face. Something dark and unforeseen. It was only a moment, but Sasuke felt it and Itachi saw it. The shadow touched Sasuke’s mind, tinting it with inky blackness. _No._

“No,” he said, surprising himself. Where had the word come from? “You’ve got a lot to do right now. There will be time when things calm down. Don’t worry yourself unnecessarily.”

It felt like a well-rehearsed speech. It felt like the words weren’t from Sasuke, but they must be, because who else would they be from?

Itachi was watching carefully. He fought down the instinctive urge to activate his Sharingan; it was alerting to some unseen presence of danger in the room. Something didn’t feel right. “Are you sure? It’s hurting you.”

And the research Itachi had done was clear in his mind. Victims that lost their way, driven to insanity by an insatiable thirst for power. A lack of empathy, a lack of judgement. Nothing but a frenzy of darkness, the seal a predator feeding on the mind of its prey.

But not Sasuke. “As soon as I can,” Itachi promised. “In a day. Maybe two.” He would stay up all night making sure he knew exactly what to do, if he had to.

There was another pull in Sasuke’s mind. _No. It can stay._ “It’s fine. It doesn’t bother me much. There’s no reason to worry. When things calm down.” _Never._

Itachi was slightly reluctant. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Sasuke said, and there was a red-hot flash of approval from the shadow prowling in his mind. “It’ll be fine until then.” The burning in his neck faded away. “Sorry. About . . . whatever happened.”

“It’s fine.” Itachi let out a relieved breath. “As long as you’re safe. I thought . . . I thought I would lose you. I don’t know . . . what I’d do if that ever happened . . .”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Sasuke said, confident in himself. “Everything’s fine.”

The moment he said the words, Sasuke felt slightly dizzy. Felt as though he were trapped inside his own body, behind something else, something that was sitting right in front of his eyes, that he couldn’t see around, and he couldn’t speak around.

But the thing was soothing, gently convincing him that he was speaking the truth, that there was nothing to worry about. There was a comfort to it, a presence that warmed him. And he believed it when he spoke again, even though the words were far away. And most importantly, _Itachi_ believed it, and that made the thing in his head retreat quietly. “Everything is fine, I promise.”

 

Naruto and Jiraiya returned with the new Hokage, and there had been nonstop meetings and consultations that he had anxiously guarded while things tried to settle into something resembling normalcy. Everyone else was helping rebuild the village, and Itachi didn’t have a spare moment to himself.

He was concerned about the seal, worrying himself over the level of influence it might have over Sasuke. Worried it would worm into his mind, change his thoughts, take control. He wanted it gone, even though Sasuke had settled into something akin to nonchalance about it, even looking pleased with himself on return from the few missions he had been on while the village was understaffed. He seemed supremely unbothered by it, and a tiny part of Itachi wondered if he was over reacting, or underestimating the potency of Sasuke’s will. Sasuke wouldn’t bend to anyone but himself.

Hopefully.

_I just need a few more days_ , he thought grimly, sitting at his desk and trying to station Anbu where he could, where they were needed most. His research on the seal was scattered around him, his attention divided between the two tasks. _I’ll be with you soon, Sasuke, and I’ll fix everything. I’ll get you back to normal. Just give me a bit more time._

He knew the longer he waited, the worse it would get. That seal would snake its way into Sasuke’s subconscious, and take hold of the little sparks of anger and resentment that sat deep within Sasuke, and pull them out into the open. Itachi knew it all too well, had seen it first-hand.

_“You let them die!”_

He tried not to dwell on Sasuke’s harsh words, although it was difficult. It was the only thing churning through his mind – along with the twist of nervousness because he knew Sasuke wouldn’t be able to resist the pull of the seal for much longer. It would draw him away. Itachi couldn’t risk that. And he didn’t know how it would do it – would it be a gradual shift in Sasuke’s demeanour? Would it be one sudden, inexplicable action? Would it explode into Sasuke without warning, without reason, leaving Itachi reeling and wondering what had happened?

He got his answer far sooner than he wanted. Sugaru blurred into his office without preamble. Itachi sat up a bit straighter, on the alert instantly because Sugaru never stopped for idle chitchat. He would be here only if it was imperative.

“Sasuke has left the village,” Sugaru reported shortly.

“He’s what?” Itachi nearly leapt from his seat, but stopped himself, concerned it would make him look too desperate. “That’s impossible. The guards wouldn’t have let him through unauthorised.”

“He killed them.” Sometimes Sugaru’s bluntness was a curse. Itachi was in need of a little sugar coating. Sudden, inexplicable explosion it was, clearly.

_Sasuke, why?_ Itachi was about to blur away in hot pursuit when he felt people approach.

Sakura looked red faced and out of breath. The fifth Hokage, Tsunade, was on her heels.

“He’s gone,” Sakura squeaked. “I tried to stop him, but he’s . . .”

Itachi took half a second to make a decision.

“I’m going after him,” he said, standing up, already reaching for his sword, which was propped against the desk. “I’ll bring him back.” _Sasuke, you’re better than this. Stronger than this. Do not let that thing take you._

“You’re going nowhere,” Tsunade said firmly. So far, she and Itachi had barely spoken a word since she arrived in Konoha, but there was no mistaking the steel in her voice. “I need you here. We have a village in ruins, we have very few shinobi skilled enough to defend us – and we’re minus a gate team. You will not move from this village. That’s an order, Itachi, and a very firm one.”

“Our Anbu forces were almost cut in half,” Itachi pointed out. “What sort of team can you send after him? We don’t have the manpower to take on those Sound Ninja. But I can.”

“A team is already being put together,” Tsunade said. “But you are not going to be in it. I promise you, they will not return without him.”

Itachi hesitated. “I want Naruto to go. Sasuke will listen to him.”

“He’s going.”

“When is Kakashi back?” Itachi hoped Sasuke might listen to his sensei, since it was clear he wouldn’t listen to his brother.

“Soon. Naruto will get the job done, you know he will. They are leaving now, to catch up to Sasuke.”

Itachi sat down again, feeling defeated. Feeling like a total failure. Why hadn’t he dropped everything to make sure Sasuke was safe? _Why is that seal still on his neck . . .? I should have . . ._

Sakura spoke up, tentatively. “Itachi-san? Naruto promises he’ll bring Sasuke back. He wanted me to tell you that.”

Itachi’s dark eyes flicked up to Sakura’s. “I know he’ll do his best.”

“He’ll keep his promise,” Sakura said certainly. “Nothing would make him go back on his word.”

And for now, that was all Itachi had. The solemn promise of a boy.

It wasn’t enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I realized I'd written myself into a corner with Sasuke while I was planning the rest of the plot, until Baby Sister came to the rescue by just saying 'Why not blame everything on the cursed seal?'
> 
> Huzzah, the plot is saved. Seals are evil now.


	22. 21 - Taking the Blame

Shikamaru’s team came home without Sasuke. They came home broken and defeated, near death and so out classed it felt like a miracle that they returned without any fatalities.

Naruto looked terribly morose, sitting in a little huddle on the edge of a hospital bed, blonde hair flying wildly around his face without his forehead protector to hold it back. He needed nothing more than some rest; the Nine Tails’ chakra was already healing any wounds, but Itachi knew there was a wound inside him that even the demon fox couldn’t mend.

Naruto’s eyes jumped up as Itachi entered the room, bright blue and startled at the older shinobi’s presence. He looked away. “I failed.”

_So did I_. Itachi came closer. Everything around them was quiet.

“He got away from me,” Naruto mumbled. “I couldn’t do what I said.” He paused for a moment, lower lip trembling slightly. But then his resolve seemed to harden, and he looked up, meeting Itachi’s eyes fiercely. “Next time. I’ll bring him home next time.”

_Next time?_ Itachi didn’t know what to say. “You . . . aren’t giving up?”

“I’ll never give up on Sasuke.” Bull headed, stubborn, hopelessly naïve. His blind determination warmed Itachi’s heart. “I’ll get him back. That snake guy won’t control him for long. I won’t give up on him, or you, or my dream, or my word.”

“Me?”

“I made you a promise,” Naruto said. “I said I’d bring him back. And I will. No matter what happens, no matter what it takes.”

Itachi had been feeling heavy since Sasuke left, feeling as though he hadn’t been able to do what he should have. But this boy, with his hands clenched into fists and fearless gaze on Itachi, was lifting him. Making him feel as though there was a tiny spark of hope. Itachi might still be a failure, but Naruto was not.

Itachi wanted to smile, but couldn’t. Not with all that had happened. But he offered, instead, words laced with sincerity. “I am grateful that my brother has a friend like you.”

 

Shisui paused atop the Leaf’s border wall, standing on a lookout. The two Anbu there had looked immensely relieved when he had arrived. Shisui assumed it was because they needed some extra hands around – the village looked like it had been hit with several wrecking balls. Full of explosives.

He was still staring in a stupefied manner when someone cleared their throat. Shisui glanced back to find Kakashi there.

“Shisui. Glad you came home on schedule.” It seemed odd that Kakashi was there. What had happened?

“Phew,” Shisui said, looking over Konoha. “I leave town for a couple months, and everything goes to shit.” Word of what had happened had travelled fast, and Shisui had made his way home as fast as possible, ready to help defend the Leaf while it was vulnerable.

“You might want to find your dramatic boyfriend,” Kakashi said quietly. “Sasuke’s gone, and Itachi is having a tough time coming to terms with it.”

“Gone?” Shisui frowned.

“Run away. Off to seek more power.”

“Let me guess,” Shisui said, “Itachi thinks that’s his fault.”

Kakashi nodded. “And you better sort him out quick, because we’ll need you for missions tomorrow. We’re a bit understaffed, as it were.”

“I’ll get him back in line,” Shisui said grimly. “Thanks for the heads up.”

“Yeah, well,” Kakashi shrugged. “I’m kinda fond of him. He’s useful, when he’s not winding himself into a state.”

“I’ll check on him quick,” Shisui promised. “And report to the new Hokage tomorrow morning.”

Kakashi nodded again. He was gone in a puff of smoke, and Shisui was left standing contemplatively on the lookout.

Konoha looked like a wreck, buildings torn apart, streets cut apart by powerful jutsus. Shisui had no doubt Konoha looked exactly the way Itachi felt. He headed home, to see what disaster awaited him there.

 

Shisui spotted Itachi sitting on the porch, staring into the starry sky. He approached cautiously. “Hey.”

Itachi didn’t reply. He barely moved at all.

“You okay?” he asked carefully, wondering what the answer would be.

“The Hokage was killed. My Anbu were cut in half. My brother has defected and is now a missing nin. The world I was trying to build has collapsed. It’s fallen, and I couldn’t stop it.”

_So, not okay, then_ , Shisui suppressed a sigh. “Yeah, I heard.”

“If the border team had been expecting it. If I’d paid a bit more attention. If I’d warned them, then maybe,” he stood up, pacing unsettled into the garden. “If I had just done my job better.”

“You did everything right,” Shisui said. “No one doubts that. No one has ever thought you were not doing your job well.”

“And it wasn’t enough,” Itachi spoke harshly. “It wasn’t enough, and everything was taken from me. Because of me, and my faults, and my inability to even keep the village safe when I knew there would be foreign ninja inside it. I knew there was danger, because there is _always_ danger, and I did _nothing_. Everything that went wrong,” he fidgeted around, stepping left, then right, unsure of what to do with himself. Failure was not something he was familiar with, and he didn’t know how to process it. “It was all because of me.”

“It’s not your fault,” Shisui said firmly, moving to place both hands on Itachi’s shoulders to try hold him still.

“It is,” Itachi replied passionately, dark wild eyes shining bright. “Everything is my fault. Everything that’s gone wrong since I was _born_ is my fault!”

“That’s not true-“

“Everything! Sasuke’s leaving because of me – I didn’t get rid of that seal when he was here and now it’s controlling him! Because I am everything wrong in his life-“

“No, you’re not,” Shisui said soothingly, but Itachi wasn’t paying attention to him. His eyes were darting around, agitated and distracted. “Itachi, you’re not.”

“I am,” Itachi broke out of Shisui’s hold, pacing away. “Think about it. He was angry at me because I couldn’t save our parents. That was my fault. And that was because of the coup, which is also my fault, because no one would have ever considered it if I hadn’t been as good as I was. It’s that anger the seal is using . . .” There was an air of desperation in Itachi’s words, and a terrible truth as well.

Shisui bit his lip. _Okay, that’s true_ , he thought grimly. Without Itachi there would have been no coup, because there would have been no one strong enough to take on the Leaf’s higher ups. But . . . “That wasn’t your fault. You were just a kid.”

“It was my fault, because I let it get out of hand. I should have stopped it sooner, I should have done something sooner. I should have changed the clan’s mind, I should have-“

“Okay, okay,” Shisui cut him off, because Itachi was clearly spiralling into panic. “Relax. It’s not-“

“The Third Hokage is dead because of me,” Itachi pointed out harshly. “Because I wasn’t ready, I wasn’t expecting an attack. Because I’ve become so hung up on my impossible dream that I thought it had reached other people too. But it hasn’t, and it’s my fault. My village was attacked, my brother is corrupted, and it’s all my fault.”

Shisui was about to speak again, but Itachi cut him off.

“Don’t tell me it wasn’t me. We both know it was. The Leaf has fallen because of me.” His voice dropped to a whisper, “I tried so hard and I failed.”

He fell silent then, looking at the ground, lost and broken and Shisui didn’t know what to say.

“Maybe it was your fault.”

Itachi lifted his head, surprised.

“Maybe you did fail, and maybe you did fuck the whole village up, and maybe you are the reason Sasuke’s running away.” Shisui’s dark eyes were serious. “So what are you going to do about it?”

Itachi said nothing.

“You can mope and sulk and whine as much as you like, but it won’t change anything. We knew there would be failures chasing this dream. We knew there would be problems. Just because you aren’t used to failing doesn’t mean you’ll never do it. Not everything is going to be as perfect as you are. So what are you going to do about it?”

Itachi’s gaze fell back to the ground.

“You don’t get to hide. You don’t get to run away. You’re going to rebuild the Leaf. You’re going to make it better. You’re going to make yourself better. And next time anyone _thinks_ about coming into this village, they’ll think twice because they’ll know you’re here. Peace isn’t a straight and easy road. It’s dark and winding, and hasn’t been travelled in centuries. But it isn’t lonely.”

Shisui laid a hand on Itachi’s shoulder, waiting until the younger boy looked up at him. “You’re not walking it alone. We’re all standing by you, through any mistakes and any problems. You can’t change the world alone, so why do you think you need to take the blame alone? We’ll get Sasuke back. Naruto promised. And Naruto will never go back on his world. You can trust that crazy kid with anything.”

Itachi looked away. “Sasuke hates me right now. I don’t know how to live with that.”

“He doesn’t hate you. He’s just . . . confused. Naruto will sort him out. But Konoha needs you here, now, so let’s rest, and tomorrow you can start rebuilding the whole world.” Shisui smiled gently. “I know you can. You’re the strongest ninja ever, remember?”

“Second,” Itachi mumbled. “Second strongest. You’re still here, and you’re still better than me.”

“That is true,” Shisui said lightly, and Itachi’s lips quirked up slightly. “But now I need you to calm down. Get some rest. You’ve been running yourself ragged. Come on, let’s go inside, and just lie down.”

“I can’t. I _can’t_ , Shisui, I need to do something.” Itachi pulled out of Shisui’s grasp.

“Okay, okay,” Shisui grabbed for him again. “Just come inside. You can panic later, and stress later, but right now, I want you inside where I can keep an eye on you.”

“I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

“You’re going to blame yourself. And I’m going to tell you not to, so let’s at least get comfortable while we go through this never-ending debate.” He entwined his fingers with Itachi’s. “Come inside. Just sit down, for half an hour.”

Itachi resisted being led, but Shisui ignored him, and all but dragged him into the house.

“You can let me go.”

“You might escape.” Shisui pulled Itachi into the lounge. “Just sit down.”

Reluctantly, Itachi situated himself on the couch, looking on edge and ready to bolt at the slightest noise. Shisui hunted down the TV remote – he was the only one who ever used it, and he had been away for months so it ended up wherever Itachi thought it needed to be, in this case hidden in a nearby cupboard ‘out of the way’.

“Shisui, no,” Itachi said. “I don’t want to watch anything. Can’t you leave it off?”

“Half an hour,” Shisui said, sitting down as well. “I promise, half an hour, and then you can leave. I won’t stop you. Okay?”

“Fine,” Itachi agreed irritably.

Shisui resisted the urge to smile smugly. He turned the TV on instead, getting comfortable and pointedly ignoring Itachi. After five minutes of sitting ramrod straight and tense, Itachi edged hesitantly towards Shisui.

Shisui stayed perfectly still, keeping his attention off Itachi. The younger finally lay against him, cuddling into his side, and Shisui laid an arm over him gently. His hand moved absently up Itachi’s chest, finger tips touching the red shell around his neck, and he smiled. He stayed silent, though, not saying a word, waiting patiently, because film was Itachi’s great weakness. He would conk out in mere minutes.

When the half hour was up, Shisui glanced at him. Itachi was sleeping against his side, predictably out cold.

“Never fails,” Shisui murmured. He settled a bit more comfortably, unwilling to risk waking Itachi to get him into bed, in case he spiralled back into his self doubt and wouldn’t go back to sleep. It wouldn’t be the most comfortable sleep ever, but at least he had eased Itachi’s mind for a little while.

 

“You want power.”

It wasn’t a question.

In the dim light, Sasuke nodded, because it felt like he had to. The seal whispered, _Yes, yes you do._

“I can give you that.” Orochimaru was shrouded in darkness, but there was no mistaking the smile in his words. “You want to attack the Leaf. You want to destroy your brother.”

Something about that didn’t sound right. It sounded . . . wrong . . . Surely that wasn’t what Sasuke wanted? He tried to voice the thought, but the seal hushed him, and it’s words became his, “Yes.”

Yes? No, that was wrong. He shook his head, feeling foggy and dazed. No . . . He didn’t want to destroy Itachi. He loved him. Didn’t he? The seal was saying something different, and he didn’t know what to believe.

“I’ll give you what you need, Sasuke-kun. All I need in exchange is your body, when the time is right. Will you do that?”

No. No, that wasn’t the right thing, either. The whole thing was confusing, it didn’t make sense. Why was Sasuke here? Where was he? How did he get here?

Where was Konoha?

Where was Itachi?

Where was Naruto – hadn’t they been fighting? Hadn’t . . . Hadn’t everything been different?

The seal burned, whispered, and gave him the words it wanted, “Yes.”


	23. 22 - Step Up

It was barely a day later when Itachi was summoned to the new Hokage’s office. He hadn’t dealt with her very much since she had arrived; he had stayed out the way, getting on with his job, and brooding over Sasuke, and assuming that she would let him know if anything was needed. He had intended to spend a few shifts on guard duty with her, just to observe and learn how she functioned and what her expectations were. So far, he hadn’t had anything to complain about.

Standing outside Tsunade’s office door, he wondered if maybe she did.

He knocked, mentally running through the last few days and reviewing his Anbu for any problems. They had all been running back to back missions, so no one had even had time to cause trouble. Not that he was aware of, anyway.

“Come in.”

The issue must be Sasuke, he decided, entering the office and closing the door, and coming to stand quietly in front of her desk, respectfully alert. “Good morning, Hokage-sama.”

“Itachi,” Tsunade acknowledged him with a slight nod. “How’s it going?”

He raised an eyebrow. It sounded like an oddly informal question, and he carefully analysed it, and filed the interaction under ‘not yet comfortable with the position of power’. “Everything seems to be going fine.”

“Of course it is,” Tsunade picked up a folder on her desk and held it up as though it was going to assist her. “Recognise this?”

As a matter of fact, he did. “That’s my file.”

“Yes, it is,” Tsunade flipped it open, taking a moment to sift through the pages. “I wanted to know who was supposed to be in charge of my village’s security. It was an interesting read.”

No response was required, so he offered none, but waited for an explanation.

“Graduated after only a year at the Academy,” Tsunade began, and Itachi resigned himself to a rather long list. “Completed the Chuunin exam alone. Entered Anbu after six months as a Chuunin. Became an Anbu Squad leader at thirteen-“

“Twelve,” Itachi mumbled. “Danzo changed the paperwork.”

Tsuande paused. “Huh. Interesting. Anyway, where was I?”

Itachi sighed. “Assigned to newly created position Head of Anbu five years ago. And responsible for the death of the Third Hokage.”

“Not what I read,” Tsuande said. “You also forgot a few things. Head of one of Konoha’s most prestigious clans. Prevented not only one, but two, uprisings from within said clan. Took on most of the invading ninja during Konoha’s attack, and was unharmed. And to cap that all off,” she sat back in her seat, “You turned just eighteen last month. You’re a phenomenal shinobi, Itachi.”

_Except when it really counts_. “Thank you.”

“Is there any specific reason you’re not the Hokage? I can’t see why no one recommended you for the position.”

“My age, probably,” he said somewhat stiffly. That was a topic that had crossed his mind before. He knew the reason.

“That’s bullshit.” And apparently Tsunade did too. She raised an eyebrow at him. “What’s the real reason?”

He sighed. “My name.”

He knew it was that, because the Uchiha clan had too long been associated with anger and hatred, the planned coup had not helped their position much. The Leaf would never accept being led by one of them, at least not in this generation. It was an obstacle on his road to peace that he hadn’t quite figured out how to overcome. Feeling the need to defend himself, or at least make himself feel a bit better about it, he added, “Besides, I’m more useful to Konoha in the position I’m in at the moment.”

“Right,” Tsunade did not look convinced. “All that back stabbing and Uchiha trouble came back to bite you in the arse, huh? Seems a pity, I think you’ll do fine as Hokage. I’ll keep you in mind.”

His heart thrilled slightly at that, pleased at being considered, because it would really mean the final barrier between the clan and the Leaf was gone. He just nodded, though, keeping his excitement in check.

“I didn’t really call you here for that, though. See, my council is full of old people. Their ideas are outdated. Their goals are outdated. They are narrow-minded and they lack skills and resourcefulness. The council is supposed to be a sounding board for the village, but right now it’s just a retirement party. And I don’t like being around old people.”

None of that seemed relevant, but Itachi was too polite to point that out.

“I want you on the council.”

_I’m sorry, what?_ “Me?” Itachi said. “On the council?”

“I’m not sure what your end goal is, but this is probably a good step in the right direction, isn’t it?” Tsunade shrugged.

She was right. A position on the council meant working closely with dignitaries and ambassadors from other villages. Strengthening those bonds, as always, was a step closer to peace. It was exactly what he needed.

“You have until tomorrow to decide. Talk it over with . . . wait, did you have anyone other than Sasuke?”

“My cousin,” Itachi said. “Lives with me. I don’t need to talk it over with anyone. I accept the position.”

“Fantastic,” Tsunade grinned. “Glad that’s sorted. Would you like a celebratory drink?”

“I don’t drink.”

“Even better, I’ll have yours. Take a seat.”

Itachi sat down somewhat cautiously, but he had a feeling he was going to like this new Hokage. And she had given him another step up towards his dream, a little boost after the crushing defeat that was Sasuke’s departure and the Third’s death.

Maybe, the dream was coming back within reach after all.

 

Itachi was making tea when he heard the knock on the door. It took no more than a second to flare his chakra curiously, and identify the visitor as Izumi. He wandered to the door to let her in.

“Hey,” she greeted. “Thought you might be lonely. I wanted to check up on you.”

There was a little blossom of warmth in his chest. “Thanks.”

“I hadn’t seen you since the Chuunin exams . . . I just wanted to know how you were doing. With everything. With Sasuke.”

Itachi stayed quiet at that. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be thinking or feeling right now. He had kept focused on work, finding it a welcome distraction.

“Want some tea?” he offered after a pause.

“Sure,” Izumi smiled. “Thank you.”

They sat in the kitchen together while the water boiled, and after a brief silence, Izumi ventured tentatively, “It must be strange, with Sasuke gone.”

“Naruto will bring him back.” Itachi sounded certain of that. “He’s a good kid. He’ll keep his word.”

“Are you okay? I mean . . . it must be hard . . .”

“I am fine.” He looked directly into her eyes. “I can’t change what’s happened, but it will work out.” _Sasuke will come to his senses eventually. He’s still my brother, under that seal, and he will come back. He’s too strong to let something like that control him._

“Let me know if you need help with anything. I mean, not that I can help you with the important things . . . but, you know, if there’s something . . .”

He nodded, understanding. Itachi did not ask for help, he probably never would, but it was still nice to know he had people he could depend upon if needed. He stood up to make the tea quietly, and Izumi watched him, wondering what was going through his mind.

Was he upset with Sasuke? Or with himself? Did he worry about what the clan thought, since it had become apparent he couldn’t control his baby brother?

“Has anyone said anything about Sasuke?” He kept his eyes away, back turned, but there was a tinge of anxiousness in his voice.

So, it was the clan that had him concerned. “No,” Izumi said honestly. “No one has mentioned anything to me. Uruchi did say it was a shame that he’s run off, but everyone assumes he’s just working some stuff out and he’ll be home before you know it.”

Itachi returned to the table, setting a mug of tea before her, and sitting down again with his own held lightly.

“Do you know why he was so upset?” she asked. “Why did he run away? He must have had a reason.”

“It was me.”

“You?”

“He’s upset with me. That’s why he left.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t expected that. The room suddenly seemed more sombre. _He blames himself_ , she corrected assumed. In the silence that followed, her eyes were drawn to the Peace Lily on the windowsill.

“There are a lot of flowers on that lily,” Izumi remarked.

Itachi looked over his shoulder at it, a slightly self-satisfied smile on his face. “Yes, it’s doing rather well.”

“I’m glad you like it,” she smiled gently, glad to see he looked more relaxed again. “You must take very good care of it.”

“You help.”

It was true. On the long missions Itachi sometimes took, he dropped the plant off at Izumi’s house. It was a source of endless amusement for Shisui, who thought Itachi was too protective and doting on it.

“I just water it occasionally.”

“And keep it away from Shisui,” Itachi added. “Which is also important.”

Izumi giggled. “He wouldn’t do anything to it.”

“He said he was going to feed it blue dye to see if the flowers changed colour. That’s why he is never allowed to take care of it.”

As if feeling the need to defend himself from being labelled a plant abuser, Shisui himself strolled in, pausing when he noticed two people in the kitchen. “Oh. Hi, Izumi.”

“Hello, Shisui. How are you?” she smiled brightly at him.

“Sweaty and gross,” he replied breezily. “If anyone suggests a mission in Suna I recommend you not do it. It’s very hot there.”

“You were there for one day,” Itachi said with a raised eyebrow. Shisui’s team had been in Sand, negotiating alliances. Since the Chuunin exams, Sand had reached out to Konoha, asking forgiveness for working with Orochimaru, and subsequently extending an offer of peace.

“One day too long, apparently.” Shisui pulled his forehead protector off and ran a hand through his damp hair. “What’s that?”

Itachi stayed silent.

Shisui leant over to inspect Itachi’s mug of tea a bit more closely. He grinned. “Aw, cute. Where’s that from?”

Itachi didn’t answer, but Izumi finally looked at it, raising an eyebrow. Itachi’s mug proudly declared ‘Mini Captain’ in bold letters.

Shisui snorted. “Birthday present from the oh so professional Anbu, I take it?”

“It was the only clean mug.”

“Liar. I’m going for a shower.”

“Alright,” Itachi said, sending Shisui an affectionate lingering look as he stomped out the kitchen again.

“I should probably be going,” Izumi said. “I have a mission tomorrow I need to prepare for.”

“Be safe.”

“Of course.” She smiled at him as she stood up. “I’ll try to visit again soon. Thank you for the tea.”

“You’re welcome.” He opened the front door when they reached it, and Izumi left with a shy smile over her shoulder.

Itachi felt Shisui approach.

“You know she’s got a massive crush on you, right?” Shisui asked, coming up behind Itachi and wrapping his arms around his waist. He rested his chin on Itachi’s shoulder.

Itachi said nothing, just closed the door.

“You should take her on a date.”

“W-What?” Itachi’s indignant splutter made Shisui chuckle.

“Go out for dinner,” Shisui said, laying his hands over Itachi’s and hooking their fingers together. “Have a nice time. Talk for a while. Then you walk her home, and say good night and all that. And then,” he trapped Itachi’s hands against his hips, pressing his body firmly against Itachi’s back. “You come home to me, and I’ll remind you that you’re mine by fucking you senseless.” He felt Itachi swallow.

“Face down,” he continued. “I’ll even tie you up.” And that made Itachi’s pulse rush under Shisui’s cheek. Shisui didn’t know what it was that got Itachi all excited about being tied, but it never failed to elicit a strong reaction. _Kinky freak_ , he thought absently. “How’s that sound?”

Itachi sent him a sideways look, one eyebrow raised.

Shisui’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not going to take her out to dinner, are you?”

“I thought it might be better to do a test run of part two.”

“Will you at least take me out to dinner first?”

 

“Did you do anything fun while I was gone?” Shisui asked, snuggling more comfortably into the blankets.

Itachi was lying beside him, propped up on pillows and reading – it looked terribly dry and boring, or Shisui would have been reading it over his shoulder. He answered mildly, “I got a position on the council.”

There was a short silence. “You did what?”

“Tsunade offered it to me,” he said, not taking his eyes off his book. “I said yes.”

“You don’t sound very excited about it.”

He looked at Shisui, slightly surprised. “Should I be?”

“Yes,” Shisui sat up, suddenly looking much more awake. “That’s awesome news. You’ll be Hokage in no time, and then our long, tiring dream will finally be even closer. We can start thinking about retirement. Let’s get a dog.”

“I don’t need to be the Hokage,” Itachi returned his attention to the book, nerve touched. “Naruto will do that.”

He had never mentioned his desire to become Hokage, not even to Shisui. It was a secret, a hope, that only he knew about.

“Your faith in that child is misplaced, but congratulations! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“It wasn’t that exciting.”

“Of course it is. We should celebrate.”

“No.”

“Let’s go out. Pretty certain it’s karaoke night at that bar Kakashi and Gai like.”

“No.”

“Call Izumi, we can have a threesome.”

“What?” Itachi turned his absolutely mortified expression to Shisui. “ _No_!”

Shisui chortled. “I wasn’t serious. I just wanted to get you a bit more interested in the conversation.”

“You have a filthy mind.”

“You knew that already, and don’t act like yours is squeaky clean – I know what gets you going and it’s not always that decent.” He snuggled a bit closer. “Still, I think we should do something to commemorate this big event. Any suggestions?”

“I was going to finish this book.”

“What is it?”

“The history of the Kages.”

“Oh my god,” Shisui rolled his eyes. “When are you going to learn to have fun? You like learning new things, give it a try.”

“We have fun already.” Itachi’s reading was interrupted as Shisui plucked the book from his hands and threw a leg over him, sitting on Itachi’s stomach and looking down at him with a cheeky smile. Itachi raised an eyebrow. “And what do you think you’re doing?”

“You, most likely. I’m up for anything. What do you want?”

“I want to finish this book.”

“Are you sure about that?” Shisui leant the palm of one hand on Itachi’s chest, high enough to feel the outline of the little red shell under his shirt. He smiled. “Anything you want . . .”

“The thing I want,” Itachi twisted onto his side, throwing Shisui off. “No one can give me right now.”

“Try me.”

“I want my brother back.” Itachi said flatly. “Can you do that? Can you give me that?”

Shisui lay on his side, shrugging one shoulder. “No. I guess not.”

“Then let me finish my book.”

Shisui was quiet for a few minutes. “You know what would be a nice way to commemorate this? By actually telling people we’re in a relationship.”

Itachi threw him a flat look.

“I know Kakashi knows, and the Jounin I work with know, but they’ve all agreed not to tell anyone. When do we get to tell people?”

“We’ve already had this conversation.”

“Yes, but I’m persistent and I’ll wear you down.”

Itachi sighed. “Now that I’m on the council, give me time to test the waters and think about it. I would prefer the nature of our relationship to remain secret for as long as possible.”

“Izumi will be so disappointed when she finds out,” Shisui mused.

“What?” Itachi frowned. “Why?”

Shisui raised an eyebrow. “You’re kidding, right? Because she has a thing for you, and everyone knows, except for you.”

“She doesn’t . . .” Itachi’s brow creased, obviously running through all his interactions with her.

“Wow, you are so oblivious,” Shisui pointed out. “It’s a good thing you made the first move with us, because apparently you need a lot more than a million hints.” He reached a hand out, tapping the shell against Itachi’s chest. “Do you like it? I almost drowned getting it.”

“Drowned?” Itachi echoed, a trace of suspicion in his voice.

“Yeah. I was helping some kids – Aruku had a few with him, doing therapy like I did – and the youngest one wanted the red shell. He tried to drown me for it,” Shisui grinned. “We compromised. I found him an orange one and he agreed to stop holding my head underwater.”

Itachi snorted softly.

“He was on my back,” Shisui said. “I was helping him swim. We were hunting shells as part of his therapy.”

“What therapy?” Itachi asked.

“You know. Aruku helps people who’re injured. The two kids with me . . . well, one can’t walk. The one trying to drown me had a leg cut off.” Shisui shrugged. “Nice kids. They were doing well when I left.” He paused, then added softly. “They’re brothers.”

Itachi turned abruptly onto his back, eyes away from Shisui. There was a slight click as he snapped his jaw tense.

“Sasuke will come home,” Shisui said, sounding assured. “Whether he breaks Orochimaru’s hold and comes home alone, or Naruto drags him back kicking and screaming, or you go and get him. He will come home. You haven’t failed. Sasuke’s journey hasn’t finished yet.”

“Did you ever think,” Itachi mused. “That one of us – that an Uchiha – would leave the village and be branded a traitor and a missing nin? And you know they aren’t . . . but the rest of the world doesn’t.”

“No.” Shisui shook his head. “I never thought that would happen. Especially not Sasuke.” He sighed. “So, what’s the plan?”

“What?” Itachi turned his head to look at Shisui. “Plan?”

“Yeah. That little path you were taking to peace just dived head first off a precipice. But we never factored in you becoming part of the council. So . . . What’s the plan?”

Itachi considered for a moment. “Well . . . Bring Sasuke home.”

“That all? Sounds far too easy for you – you like overworking. Spice the plan up a bit.”

“Fine,” Itachi chuckled. “New plan. Bring Sasuke home to a world of peace. All five countries together. All threats of war eliminated.”

“Anything else?” Shisui prompted.

“One other thing.” Itachi conceded. “When we have that world, and we have that peace . . .” He shifted onto his side again, charcoal eyes looking deep into Shisui’s. “I want the whole world to know you’re mine.”

A slow, delighted smile curled along Shisui’s lips.

“No more secrets. No more hiding. That,” Itachi said, sincerely and achingly truthful, “Is the world I want.”

 

The masked man had not needed to approach Konoha again. Orochimaru’s attack had done more than enough for him, to weaken their defences, to inflict the fear of another attack on them. There was still the issue of Itachi being outrageously powerful, which was why the masked man had not yet made a move against the village. He needed Itachi out of the way first.

The rest was easy enough. He had a plan for Kakashi, who was the next biggest threat. He had a plan for Shisui. The Nine-Tails’ host was also accounted for.

He had been watching as Sasuke left, wandering foolishly into the hands of Orochimaru, and the plan seemed to take shape then. Itachi wasn’t easy to overcome, but maybe, with the right leverage . . .

Getting Sasuke on his side shouldn’t be hard. It shouldn’t be hard at all.

Itachi could continue building himself back up after the defeat of Konoha’s invasion. The higher he rose, the further he had to fall. Sasuke was just the push needed.


	24. 23 - High Point, Low Point

It was pouring rain when Shisui opened his eyes in the morning. He remained perfectly still, because Itachi was still asleep, and it was rare the moments that happened, since Itachi usually woke up instantly if something changed or moved.

So Shisui lay quietly for a while, just looking, while the rain drummed outside. Itachi’s hair was a mess, flung all around from a restless night, and the little red shell around his neck had migrated and was laid over the back of his shoulder, bright crimson against pale skin.

Shisui wished he could just leave Itachi lying in bed all day. Just give him a day where he didn’t have to stress, or work, or do anything. Just one day, where the world could stop and Itachi could just _be_. After Sasuke’s bitter departure, Shisui thought he needed a day to himself. A day to let everything go.

He reached a hand out carefully, trying to move the shell without causing a disturbance. It didn’t work, of course. Itachi’s eyes flicked open the moment Shisui touched him, but he didn’t move. Shisui pushed the little shell off Itachi’s shoulder, and it slid around to lay against his neck.

“Take the day off.”

“I have a council meeting.” Itachi closed his eyes again.

“When was the last time you had time off?” Shisui asked.

Itachi’s dark eyes flicked open again. He answered slowly, “When you were hurt.”

“That was years ago.”

“I don’t like having time off.” Itachi edged closer, nuzzling into Shisui. “Too much time to think about all the things I should be doing.”

“Workaholic,” Shisui grumbled. “Take the day off after your meeting.”

“Anbu training.”

“You have an excuse for everything, don’t you?”

“I like to keep busy.”

“Yeah, but ‘busy’ doesn’t leave enough time for us,” Shisui kissed the top of Itachi’s head; it was the nearest body part, with Itachi burrowing into his chest. “Why can’t ‘busy’ on a rainy day be ‘stay in bed and have sex all day’.”

“I’ll work it into my schedule.” The smile could be heard. “Next rainy day.” Itachi shifted slightly, pulling away. “What time is it?”

“About six, knowing you,” Shisui said. “Stop waking up so early.”

“You were awake before me. My meeting’s at nine,” Itachi’s dark eyes locked onto Shisui’s. “So we have some time to ourselves.”

In lieu of a reply, Shisui just kissed him. It was long and slow, because for once they weren’t rushing from place to place, Itachi didn’t have a thousand other things on his mind. Shisui was allowed to take his time, allowed to slide a hand to the back of Itachi’s head before he could say anything further about schedules and meetings and his amazing ability to ruin perfectly beautiful moments talking about work.

Luckily, Itachi seemed content to relax in Shisui’s hold, moving a hand to rest on Shisui’s side, fingers gripping gently at bare skin peeking from the bottom of his shirt. Shisui was always warmer than Itachi, and he flinched ever so slightly at the skin to skin contact; Itachi’s finger tips slightly cold.

“Sorry,” Itachi murmured.

“S’fine.” Shisui let his hand slide from the back of Itachi’s head to his neck, laying over tight, smooth skin.

He was busy marvelling at the beat of Itachi’s heart, feeling it pound strong and steady under his palm, and was just a second too slow to stop Itachi’s fingers from wandering from his side to the little dent in his back. Itachi pressed hard.

“Ow, _fuck_ ,” Shisui jerked back. “Damnit, what is _wrong_ with you?”

Itachi looked absolutely serene and perfectly innocent. “I like your reaction.”

Shisui groaned, feeling his back tingle slightly. And, infuriatingly, his blood was rushing southward, in response to Itachi’s irritating probing fingers. Shisui’s body had helpfully conditioned itself to become aroused anytime Itachi’s wandering hands found their way to his lower back, and it annoyed him exponentially because he didn’t share Itachi’s weird obsession with mild masochism. Before he could grumble about it further, Itachi shifted his hips forward, pressing curiously against Shisui’s body, and looking secretly delighted at the response he had elicited.

“You like it.”

“I _don’t_ ,” Shisui retorted, although his growing erection seemed to disagree. “This is your fault, you sadist, because you keep poking me during sex and now look, every damn time –“

Itachi cut him off with a gentle kiss, his thumb now stroking somewhat apologetically into the dip in Shisui’s back, no longer pressing, but even that gentle caress sent Shisui’s pulse racing and blood pumping, and Itachi hooked a leg over his thigh to yank him slightly closer, the way he liked to do.

“You know,” Shisui said, pulling back enough to speak. “If I ever get hit in the back during a mission, it’s going to make things very awkward.”

“Hm.” Itachi made a considering noise, edging Shisui’s shirt up over his head. He was systemically removing clothing from both of them, somehow managing to shimmy Shisui around without either of them moving from their horizontal positions.

When all clothes were discarded, Shisui moved to lie on top of Itachi, only to get pushed firmly down onto his back. It was rare for Itachi to insist on control with regards to intimacy, and it always made Shisui slightly nervous. He hoped he hid it well enough, but as Itachi straddled him, he tilted his head curiously to one side, studying Shisui carefully.

“You’re nervous.”

“I don’t like it when you get all demanding.”

A brief smirk crossed Itachi’s face. “Your back is safe. You’re lying on it.”

“I love how you assume that’s the _only_ thing I worry about.” Shisui brought his hands up slowly, letting them rest on Itachi’s thighs. “Don’t tie me up.”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“I do, implicitly, but you are a sadist. We’ve talked about it extensively. You tend to take control a bit too far. That’s why I prefer keeping it in these situations.”

Itachi took a moment to think, absently tangling his hands within Shisui’s, sitting absolutely still with his dark eyes watching carefully, and dark hair tangled all over. The look on his face made Shisui’s heart race; quizzical, calculating, obviously considering options and scenarios, but whatever was going through Itachi’s head he was clearly taking it seriously. Finally, he leaned forward, putting their faces tantalizingly close. The little red shell fell forwards, touching lightly onto the centre of Shisui’s chest. “I love you.”

Shisui closed his eyes, letting out a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding. God _damnit_ , Itachi knew how to play dirty. So rare were the times he uttered those words, so carefully chosen and spoken with absolute deadly conviction and honesty, that Shisui was putty in his hands. _You’re a damn stupid annoying brat-_ “Love you too.”

The shell sat against his skin a bit more firmly now, as Itachi closed the distance between them and kissed Shisui again. It didn’t last as long as Shisui wanted before Itachi pulled back, and Shisui opened his eyes, wondering what mad scheme was brewing in Itachi’s head now.

The younger was looking at him with shining dark eyes. The sight was beautiful and nerve wracking. Shisui swallowed once.

“I’ll skip the meeting if you let me tie you up.” No preamble needed, Itachi got to the point.

For a long moment, there was terse silence. Shisui stared at him, jaw clenched. Itachi gazed back, soft and glowing, and waiting patiently.

Shisui sighed.

 

 

 

“Your clan should come with an instruction manual.” Kakashi spun a shuriken lazily on one finger, lying casually across a thick branch in a tree.

Itachi sat on the ground below, for once doing nothing, just staring at the grass and wondering how life had gotten so out of his control. He had so much to do, and so much that needed his attention, and he missed Sasuke terribly, even though it had only been a few weeks.

“And a warning. ‘Dealing with Uchihas is sure to cause a complete mental break down’.”

“You dealt with me.”

“And you are the exception to so many rules.” Kakashi sighed. “Sasuke was a bit too . . . Uchiha . . . Too focused on himself. On being better. That made him an easy target for Orochimaru. He preys on the ones who have something to prove.”

Until now, it hadn’t occurred to Itachi how hard Kakashi must be taking Sasuke’s disappearance. He had worked closely to the boy, helped him train, helped him grow, cared for him and protected him as a mentor, teacher and father figure. Having a student leave, as abruptly as Sasuke had, could not be easy. And as Kakashi said, Sasuke was an Uchiha, and Kakashi had already had a long, difficult history with the clan.

Itachi tilted his head back, dark eyes flicking briefly to Kakashi, then down at the grass again. “It’s not Sasuke’s fault.”

“Most people won’t see it that way.” Kakashi spun the shuriken again. “Most people will see a ninja who left his village, who attacked his best friend when he tried to bring him home. They’ll see someone who defected to a man who tried to destroy the village. Whatever Sasuke does while he’s gone . . . they will blame him.”

_Do you blame him? Or yourself? He’s the second Uchiha you lost . . ._ Itachi half shrugged. “But it’s not his fault.”

“You can tell yourself that as much as you like,” Kakashi said. “But it’s the rest of the world you need to convince.”

Itachi wanted to go after Sasuke. He wanted to storm out into the world, tear it down, and bring his brother home. He wasn’t able to; the Leaf was vulnerable and he was one of their best defences. For the coming months, he couldn’t leave. He had already sent Naruto out in his place, hoping the young blonde’s stubborn loyalty to Sasuke would result in some sort of miracle, and Sasuke’s return to the Leaf.

One errant Uchiha was already a problem. Two of them . . .

He sent a slightly sideways look up at Kakashi. “What if it was . . . someone you loved?”

“Hm?” Kakashi questioned, non-committal and still spinning weapons.

“If someone you loved had left the village. Turned on it. Someone very important to you.”

Kakashi snorted, but his words were weighted. “Everyone I loved is dead.”

_I know._ “But if they had. If they threatened the village. If they told you that they would attack it and take it down. Then what would you do? What would you think?”

“Sasuke isn’t going to attack the village.”

“I’m not talking about Sasuke.”

In the next instant, Kakashi was in front of Itachi, visible eye narrowed. “Then who?”

_Obito._ “You had a friend. A friend who gave you a gift as he died. A friend you trusted.”

“Obito is dead,” Kakashi said coldly.

_No, he isn’t._ “If he weren’t . . .” Itachi needed to know. Because he needed to formulate a plan, and it depended on what side Kakashi was on, on how he would react to the discovery of Obito’s lack of death. “Would you be able to fight him? Would you be able to take his life to save the village? Would you be willing, and strong enough, to sacrifice him twice?”

There was a tense silence. Itachi knew he had crossed a line, but he needed the information. It was no accident that he and Kakashi were speaking now. He had planned it that way.

Kakashi was still looking at him darkly, trying to analyse the conversation, trying to figure out why Itachi pushing this. He repeated, voice low and almost quivering. “Obito is dead.”

_It would hurt you greatly to fight him._ Itachi looked away. “You would do the right thing, for the Leaf. You always have. I trust you.”

“We’re done talking.” Without saying anything further, Kakashi began to walk away.

Itachi did not follow. He remained sitting on the grass, tracking Kakashi’s departure out the corner of his eye. Did the masked man know that Kakashi would be divided on what to do? Did he assume his presence, his existence, would be enough to nullify a counter attack from the infamous Copy Ninja?

For some reason, Itachi couldn’t get it out of his head that Sasuke and the masked man were going to connect in some way. Whenever he thought about Sasuke, the masked man appeared in his head.

_Because you feel responsible for them both._

He sighed. His clan, his _name_ , was a never-ending headache. Between defectors, traitors, coups, resurrections, threats, murders, rumours, the on-going argument with Shisui about their hidden relationship . . . Itachi didn’t know how much more of it he could take.

One part of his dream – make sure the clan is fully integrated into the Leaf – seemed like it would be impossible to orchestrate as long as there was a clan. He went home, still brooding.

Was he even strong enough, to carry all this? To manage all this? To change all this?

Was it truly an impossible dream, and he was just beating his head against a brick wall?

The dream felt no closer. It felt no more concrete. It was a fleeting wisp on the wind, something intangible, something shrouded in doubt and darkness. Something he might never reach. Because every time he tried, something pushed him back.

It had sounded so simple when he was younger.

He sat slumped at the kitchen table, feeling defeated. _Should I even bother? Should I just give up? Could anyone expect to gain what I hope to gain?_

_Is this a dream that can never be caught?_

As always, his gaze was drawn to the peace lily on the windowsill. His starting point, his first little bit of peace in a world broken and tempestuous. It had been so small back then, nothing more than a few tiny green leaves. It had grown, and changed, and taken shape.

Every dream needed a starting point.

And he wasn’t ready to give up on his just yet.

 

 

Itachi knocked on the Hokage’s door, perfunctory, but he opened it immediately afterwards. After only a few weeks of working together, Tsunade and Itachi had become strangely close.

So it was normal for her to smile when he entered. “Ah, Mini Captain-“ When the hell had that caught on outside of Anbu? Itachi suppressed a groan. Everything happened to him. - “What brings you here?”

“Don’t call me that.”

Tsunade shrugged. “I’ll do what I want. You missed the last council meeting, by the way. What were you doing?”

“Clan business,” Itachi replied simply. He stood in front of her desk.

Tsunade leaned back in her seat. “What’s up?”

“I want to go and get Sasuke back.” Itachi didn’t see any need not to get straight to the point.

“He’s the least of my worries right now,” Tsunade replied. “We know he’s safe for the next few years, but the Leaf is not. I need you here, helping me. You can’t just run off on a whim, on a mission that could take weeks.”

So far, Itachi and Tsunade had not clashed on anything. They had been in agreement. That seemed set to change. “Orochimaru is dangerous, and my brother is with him. I want him back.”

“There is no hurry there; Orochimaru can’t do a damn thing to Sasuke right now, so leave it for now, and do your job and protect my village.” Tsunade’s tone carried finality to it.

“Do you have any idea what that man is capable of? What’s he’s _doing_?” Itachi had done his research. He knew the accusations against Orochimaru, the experiments on children, the blatant disregard for anyone but himself. The fact that the cursed seal was literally controlling Sasuke and his thoughts and actions.

“Yes, I do,” Tsunade’s tone was quaking slightly with fury. Itachi wondered if she was angry at him, or Sasuke, or Orochimaru. “I know _exactly_ what he’s capable of. I know him. Do you think you’re the only one here who’s watched a friend – a _comrade_ – turn into something else? I know what you’re going through, I know you’re upset, but you can’t do anything about it now.”

“Every second he’s with that man, he’s in danger,” Itachi pointed out. “I want him back. He’s _mine_ , and I said I’d protect him.”

“And what’s your plan? You think you can just go and kill Orochimaru? You do that, and every one of his followers will be upon this village, and you know we can’t stand up to another attack right now. You will start a _war_ , Itachi.”

Itachi flinched.

“I need you to leave it alone for now. I know you want your brother back, I know you’re hurting, but if you want my job any time soon, you better start thinking about the bigger picture. You want peace? Then stop trying to start a war. You want to be Hokage? Then put the village first. There is more at stake here than just your brother’s life.”

He stayed silent.

“I need you here, doing as you’re told. You know this village inside and out, and don’t think I don’t know what Danzo used you for.”

Itachi raised his head.

“I know you spent years spying on your own village, on your own clan. You know everything about this village. _Everything_. There is not a single shinobi here with more secrets and knowledge than you. Prove to me that you’re good enough to defend it, and defend all those secrets and everything inside it. Prove to me that you can see a future, not just the present.”

“My brother is the future,” Itachi insisted. “If one person in a village has no value, then how can the village have any value? His life matters, and it is equal to the village to me. I can’t choose between them, and no one should have to. He is my family, he’s my baby brother. He belongs here.”

“He’s a missing nin, now.”

“It’s not his fault,” Itachi said boldly. “It wasn’t his choice. He is being controlled, nothing he’s done has been his choice. Doesn’t that matter?”

“I think it’s going to depend,” Tsunade said. “On what he does while he’s away. Maybe everything will be fine. Maybe everyone will welcome him home. But maybe he’ll be out of control, and maybe he’ll have done unforgiveable things that the village can’t accept. Then what?”

“Then I’ll show the village that he is still good. I have faith in him. So does Naruto. And when has that boy ever been wrong about who someone truly is?”

Tsunade fell silent then. Her affection towards Naruto was no secret. She was exceptionally fond of the young blond boy.

“I love my brother, and I love this village. I can’t have one without the other. So if you want me, I need him.” Itachi met her eyes seriously.

Tsunade levelled a look at him. It conveyed so much. Would Itachi leave, unauthorized, to seek Sasuke out? Would he abandon everything just to make sure his brother was safe? Could the Leaf even survive without him?

Tsunade weighed her options, eying him shrewdly. “Fine, here’s what’s going to happen. You have all our resources – be that political influence, shinobi, archives, anything. You have the full use of everything in this village. Do whatever you want, whatever you need, to find your brother and bring him back. But in exchange, I need you here, at my side. On the council, on the Anbu, anywhere I need, for as long as I need. In the village.”

Itachi nodded. That worked fine for him. He knew what he needed.

“Then go,” Tsunade sounded resigned. “Leave me in peace for five minutes.”

“There is one other thing.”

Tsunade shot him the driest look she could muster. He was persistent and stubborn, and arguing was futile.

“Someone has been watching the Leaf. There is a masked shinobi who intends to attack us. As things stand now, we won’t be able to defend ourselves. I do have a plan, and I’m working on my attack, but I need more time to practice.”

“Then take it,” Tsunade said. “Take as much time as you need. Tomorrow, you can tell me everything about this man and what his intentions are. For now, please leave. You’re exhausting.”

Itachi nodded politely, but he paused at the door, looking back. “I want to protect the Leaf. And I want my brother back. I will do both those things.”

Tsunade looked at him. There was a small flicker of fondness in her gaze. “I know you will. Crazy Uchiha.”

“I’ve got a dream to achieve.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard.” Tsunade nodded slowly, thinking. “I’m waiting to see it. Waiting to see what other amazing things you can do. Because I know you’re not done yet. So far, it looks like no one in the world can overcome you.”

_I hope so . . ._ If Itachi couldn’t stand strong against the threats he knew were coming, then who would? He couldn’t watch his world crumble around him. Not again. He would see this dream through the end, including Sasuke safe at home.

Even if it killed him.


	25. 24 - Trust Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now comes the part where I show off my epic abilities to bullsh*t. The entire premise for Itachi's genjutsu technique is based off the fact that some illusions seem to affect the way people behave/ control their actions, rather than just creating an intangible illusion around them. In other words - I am making stuff up and just rolling with it because I can.

“I need to cast a genjutsu on you.”

Shisui paused. That was a new greeting he hadn’t heard before. Clearly, they were treading new territory here, and he was cautious as to where it was going. Somewhat hesitantly, he looked up from his supper and asked, “. . .  Why?”

Itachi was looking at him, expression blank. He looked exhausted. “I need to practice.”

“. . . Practice what?” Shisui wasn’t going to lie; Itachi was making him nervous. He wouldn’t be nervous with anyone else, because he knew he could break any illusion easily, but Itachi was in a league of his own, and the fact that he wanted to try something on Shisui probably meant it was unbreakable.

Itachi sat down opposite him, and explained carefully, “I’ve been doing some research. And I’ll need this jutsu in the future. I don’t know how much time I’ll have before I truly need it, so I want to make sure it’s perfect as soon as possible.”

“And you need me because . . ?”

“With most illusions, the victim does not know they are under an illusion. It makes them easier to control. But the one I want to create, you will know you’re in it. Kind of like when you set an illusion to trigger when the victim does a certain thing or has a certain thought.”

Those were tricky to weave, tricky to execute correctly, and Shisui knew Itachi was well skilled with them. He had seen it in action, genjutsus set into enemy’s minds days before Itachi needed them, and they were instantly activated when the enemy behaved a certain way. Usually, Itachi just gave them ‘suggestions’ on what to do with themselves, and it was a neat, efficient way to get targets to dispatch themselves.

“Mind control, basically, like the Yamanaka’s do?” Shisui ventured. When had Itachi orchestrated this?

Itachi nodded. “In a sense. Behaviour modification might be a better descriptor. As you know, genjutsu usually relies on a single sense, like sight or touch, and manipulates it. I want to try with your nervous system instead.”

“Oh, wow,” Shisui could feel a sweat break out on his forehead. “Um . . . why?”

“Once the victim knows they are trapped in an illusion, they can break it. The transition from being unaware to aware is what helps to break it. It stands to reason, then, that if you know about this one from the very start of it, it will be unbreakable, because there’s no transition for the brain to recognise and nullify.” He needed some way to incapacitate Obito, Madara, anyone, to make sure there were no hidden facets to the plan to overthrow Konoha. Furthermore, he didn’t want to rely in influencing the external senses of a victim. Any skilled genjutsu user would be able to recognise a change in sight, smell, taste, sound. Itachi needed to be _inside_ , where the illusion could be hidden far more easily.

“When did you start working on this?” Shisui asked, guardedly. Itachi never brought things up unless he had spent extensive time considering it.

“A few years ago. I began testing it on lesser victims. Now I need someone who could actually show me if its working correctly.”

“See, when you use words like ‘victim’ it makes me nervous.”

“Will you try it with me?” Itachi asked earnestly. “I need your help.”

Shisui hesitated. “You want complete control over me, and I won’t be able to stop you?”

“Yes.”

“Fucking hell, that does not sound safe. Why can’t you get someone else to do this?”

“Because you’re the best. You’re strong enough to fight me, and I need to know I can really do this. No one else would be worth trying with.”

With a soft groan, Shisui nodded, feeling thoroughly whipped. _The things I do for you . . ._ “Okay, fine, we’ll try. If it’s that important to you.”

Itachi stood up, moving around the table to pull Shisui gently to his feet, one hand going to the back of Shisui’s neck to hold him still for a soft kiss. “Thank you.”

Shisui shrugged. “Yeah, well. You know. It’s you.” He pressed his lips together thinly as Itachi stepped back, Sharingan bright, and waited. He wondered if anything would change. Would it feel weird? Other illusions could be felt, if you knew what you were looking for.

“Has it . . . has it started yet?” Shisui asked tensely, looking at Itachi’s irritatingly calm expression.

“Yes.”

“Okay . . . I don’t feel any different.” With the exception of his racing heart, because Itachi was powerful and Shisui didn’t like the idea of having no failsafe to escape should he feel the need to. He knew Itachi would never hurt him, but a lifetime of training against illusions . . . it went against everything he knew to allow one to be cast on himself. Even for ‘practice’.

“I haven’t told you to do anything yet.”

Shisui tried to nod, only to find he couldn’t, and it sent a shooting spike of adrenaline through his system. He was standing frozen in place. _Oh my god . . ._

“Is this alright?” Itachi asked. “It doesn’t hurt?”

“No. No, I’m just freaking out a little, but it’s fine, I mean, what could go wrong just handing over your free will to someone who could kill you with a thought-“

“I wouldn’t . . .” Itachi trailed off, frowning slightly. “Shisui, I’m not trying to hurt you. This is hard for me to do, and I trust you. I don’t have anyone else to ask.”

“It’s fine,” Shisui said. He cleared his throat softly. “Kinda feels like I need a safe word . . .” Shisui’s voice was trembling slightly.

Itachi’s eyes darted to his, surprised. “Are you scared?”

“ _Yes_.”

Itachi considered for a moment, eyes flicking down to Shisui’s chest. “I’ll stop if you tell me to.” He sounded uncertain now, thrown by Shisui’s nervousness.

And that should have made him feel better, but it didn’t, because what if Itachi made him unable to say anything? _I should have never agreed to this_ , he thought, swallowing roughly. His stomach was fluttering, and he didn’t think he had ever been this frightened in his life. And it was slightly frustrating, because he trusted Itachi implicitly, but a lifetime of training could not be forgotten just because it was Itachi at the helm.

“Just . . . get on with whatever you need to do . . .” And he would have jumped in surprise – probably leapt out of his skin if it were an option – when his arm moved without his consent, just a slight twitch, just Itachi checking his control.

“Will you be upset if I make you take your shirt off?”

“I’m not sure ‘upset’ will quite cover it, but _why_?”

“Gives me something to focus on,” Itachi said, a little concentrated crease appearing between his eyes. Shisui felt something in his mind waver; he wondered if Itachi was losing his grip. It was probably quite tiring holding another person’s mind steady. Shisui had no doubt he was automatically fighting back.

_Of course_ , Shisui thought, pleased at being able to roll his eyes. _You like to stare, you weirdo_. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

His verbal assent was apparently all Itachi needed, because in the next instant Shisui was pulling his shirt over his head – it felt so bizarre, so unsettling, but Itachi was looking at him the way he always did, calm and peaceful and at ease, which helped a bit. He was certain Itachi must hear his heart pounding, though.

He felt another waver, this one stronger, and Itachi closed his eyes for a few seconds, gathering his focus. He opened them again, one hand lifting to touch his finger tips to Shisui’s chest, starting the familiar pattern he always took when he was looking. Shisui said nothing, hoping it would help. He didn’t want to distract. Not when Itachi was gently feeling his way down the centre of his chest, and Shisui knew he was counting each rib, each muscle, because the familiarity helped him focus.

“You okay?” he asked, after the silence had stretched on for what felt like several minutes. His heart was slowing down, calming with the lack of danger presented. Even so, he probably wouldn’t volunteer for this again.

Itachi’s Sharingan was still focused on his chest, his lips moving slightly as he mouthed the name of each muscle, lost in thought, and Shisui felt the same waver in the back of his mind, like a string being twanged. It wavered twice in quick succession, and he felt a flare of something from Itachi – it felt like panic, maybe at the loss of control.

“Itachi?” He spoke again, trying to break through Itachi’s focus. “Hey, you okay?”

His heart starting racing again as Itachi’s Sharingan changed, snapping into its three-pronged Mangekyou form, and for a moment Shisui panicked, instinct automatically assuming an attack was imminent. It seemed not to be the case, because he felt the twang again once, twice, then Itachi scrunched his eyes closed, blood starting to flow from them, and Shisui found himself dropped on his arse on the floor.

Slightly shaky, he stood up, immensely relieved to find he could. “Itachi?”

The younger boy was wiping at his eyes, the skin of his fingers coming away unsettlingly red.

“Let me see,” Shisui said gently, taking one of Itachi’s wrists in his hand.

“It’s fine,” Itachi mumbled. “It does this sometimes. You kept fighting me. I had to try too hard.”

“Imagine that, you trying too hard,” Shisui laughed softly. “For the record, that was terrifying and I’m never doing it again.”

Itachi blinked rapidly, but no more blood flowed. He wiped at his cheeks again, then chanced a look at Shisui. “Are you alright?”

“Better than you,” Shisui said. He touched the back of his fingers to Itachi’s cheek. “More worried about you shooting blood everywhere.”

“It’s not every time,” Itachi said. “Just when I’m tired.”

“If you ever question the amount of trust I have in you, please refer back to this. Geez,” Shisui was still shaking slightly. “You’re scary when you want to be.”

Itachi just smiled at him, too pleased with the relative success of his first attempt to defend himself against Shisui’s gentle chiding. He felt tired, drained.

“So,” Shisui said. “My shirt’s off already. Want to just roll with it?”

“If you’ll let me try one more time,” Itachi said.

_Like a dog with a bone_. Shisui sighed. “Okay. One more. But you owe me, like, a lot.” He reached a hand forward again, thumb swiping a bit of blood from Itachi’s cheek. “Get cleaned up first.”

He herded Itachi towards the bedroom, hoping to convince him to sit down for a moment, clean his eyes properly, before round two of Itachi’s latest crazy scheme. He got them both into the bedroom before Itachi intercepted.

“I’m fine,” he said. “You don’t need to fuss.”

Shisui snorted.

“I want to try again.”

“And I want my brain to stay intact,” Shisui grumbled, but he faced Itachi again, holding back a sigh. “Okay. Gently, though.”

“You were the one fighting me,” Itachi mumbled.

“That was involuntary.” Shisui didn’t know he had been doing it, but it did make him feel better. At least he had some defence, although it didn’t seem strong enough to make a difference.

Without warning Itachi snapped his eyes back to Shisui’s, and Shisui felt his whole body lock into place.

He tried to fight it, automatically, but it was useless. His hand didn’t even hesitate, reaching to press gently against Itachi’s chest, starting at the little shell around his neck, nestled under his shirt, in the same manner Itachi often reached for him. Familiar territory, obviously easier for Itachi to maintain his hold with something that he knew well.

And when Itachi pulled his shirt over his head, there was a strange spasm through Shisui’s arm. Clearly, dividing his focus was something Itachi still had to work on, but he refocused quickly, and Shisui continued his involuntary inspection of Itachi’s upper body. It was weird, and frightening, and he felt out of control and almost dizzy with nerves and a thousand other emotions.

Shisui wondered how long Itachi could keep hold of him like this. Part of him was interested in the concept, and part of him was terrified of it. His heart was still pounding away, and he was surprised it hadn’t given up yet, given the speed it had been going at most of the evening. Well, if he had a heart attack at least Itachi wouldn’t want to experiment on him anymore.

Hopefully.

“On your knees.”

“You don’t even need to say it, you know I’ll do whatever you think,” Shisui grumbled as his body helpfully complied, and he felt an unfamiliar rush of apprehension. Handing over control to Itachi was nothing new; Itachi was in control a lot, in helped him stay calm. But usually, in this location, in these situations, it was Shisui steering and commanding, and he wasn’t sure how comfortable he was with not being the one calling the shots.

He swallowed hard, eyeline level with Itachi’s stomach. “I’m not so sure about this . . .”

The waver was back, the twang a little sharper this time, as Itachi’s focus faltered, and Shisui wondered whose insecurity had influenced it. He wondered if Itachi had blocked any feedback from him, or if he could feel Shisui’s stomach twisting nervously.

To Shisui’s surprise, Itachi knelt down in front of him, putting the two of them level.

“What are you doing?” Shisui asked. He had assumed this was going somewhere else.

Itachi cupped both hands around Shisui’s face, able to tilt his head back unresisting and press a deep kiss against his lips. Shisui was unsettlingly hard, his body clearly not in the least intimidated by the lack of control, and he was somewhat annoyed with himself for it. For god’s sake, did his dick not have any sense of self-preservation?

Itachi pulled back to look into his eyes. “I didn’t want to drop you.”

“What?”

Itachi blinked, and in the next moment Shisui nearly sat down as every muscle felt lax. He caught himself, stunned at control being handed back so suddenly.

Itachi was watching him gravely, dark eyes silently querying if he was okay.

“Fuck,” Shisui said, moving Itachi’s hands away from his face so he could shift closer and press their bodies together. “We really, _really_ need a safe word.”

Itachi actually laughed – it was so rare it startled Shisui – and sent him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“No harm done,” Shisui brushed it off. “But I feel like you owe me.”

Itachi smiled fondly at him, still looking tired. “What do you want?”

“Hm,” Shisui ran a finger along Itachi’s lips. “Other than fucking you senseless? Breakfast in bed.”

“I think I can manage that.”

“Good.” Shisui stood up, pulling Itachi up with him and casually tossing the younger boy onto the bed. “You’re not using me to ‘practice’ on ever again.” He settled between Itachi’s legs, making sure Itachi would feel how hard he was.

“Feels like you didn’t mind much.” Itachi nudged a hip against Shisui’s erection.

“That was probably you.”

Itachi rolled his eyes. “I couldn’t control your _blood flow_ Shisui, I’m not that good.”

“You sound like a liar.” Shisui smiled against Itachi’s neck. He pressed a gentle kiss there, lips feeling the steady beat of Itachi’s heart through the thick cord in his neck. Shisui’s heart was still racing, out of control from fear and excitement.

Itachi clearly noticed, eyes flicking with interest to Shisui’s chest, as though looking right through his skin to the flicker of his heart, and he moved both arms to Shisui’s back, tracing the familiar path to the bottom of Shisui’s spine.

“Nope,” Shisui grabbed both of Itachi’s wrists. “You’ve already scared me half to death today, you don’t get to hurt me as well.”

Itachi cocked his head to the side, looking at Shisui innocently, as if he had no idea what Shisui meant.

“Don’t look at me like that, you sadist,” Shisui grumbled. He considered tying Itachi’s hands above his head, but already the younger had slid his eyes closed, lying lax and boneless, and making no move at all to shift from where Shisui had pinned him.

Shisui felt a sudden hot rush of affection, looking down at Itachi’s unmoving face. “I love you so much,” he said, leaning down to press kisses against Itachi’s neck, lips lingering to feel his pulse thumping steadily. “Even when you’re a jerk.”

In response, Itachi just wrapped a leg around the back of Shisui’s thigh and tugged him closer. The movement was not as urgent as it usually was, but rather languid and unhurried. Deep dark eyes opened and stayed locked onto Shisui’s face, holding him still with gaze alone. That look, Shisui knew, was Itachi’s way of saying ‘I love you’, rare words that he didn’t utter often, but felt and gestured and telegraphed with absolute conviction.

Shisui leaned in for another slow kiss, making a small mental note of Itachi’s lack of response. He wondered vaguely how much chakra Itachi was using with his new genjutsu. Probably a lot, if his absence of movement meant anything. Itachi had excellent chakra control, but unusually low stamina, and Shisui edged back a bit, watching him critically.

Itachi remained passive, looking back at him.

“Do you want to rest, rather?” Shisui asked.

Itachi shook his head slightly. “No . . .”

“Looks like you won’t have a choice in the matter.” Shisui brushed the back of a finger down one of Itachi’s cheeks. “You’re falling asleep.”

“I’m _not_ ,” the response was slightly indignant, but not as quick as it should have been.

Shisui chuckled. _Sure, sure. Liar._ “So, tell me,” he lifted his weight slightly, and watched Itachi battle to keep his eyes open. “What’s the use of a genjutsu you can only use for a minute, which drains you so completely that you conk out after using it?”

“Just need to practice more,” Itachi murmured, keeping his eyes locked stubbornly onto Shisui.

“Yeah?” He moved his hand, tenderly brushing hair away from Itachi’s forehead. If he could keep Itachi still for a few more minutes, he was hoping he would fall asleep and finally rest. Itachi had a tendency to forget that humans required sleep to function. Maybe training to exhaustion was the answer Shisui had been looking for. It might be a slightly annoying answer, since Shisui was keyed up, hyper, and ready for anything with his heart still pounding, and blood rushing, and a throbbing erection that seemed content to stay, but he supposed he could take care of that after he convinced Itachi to close his eyes and just stop for a moment. “Go to sleep.”

“We’re busy,” Itachi insisted. That seemed to remind him of what they had been intending to do, and he tightened the leg that was still around Shisui.

“We can be busy another time,” Shisui said, carefully disentangling himself. He laid one hand on the centre of Itachi’s chest, stopping him from trying to sit up. “You’re exhausted. You’ve been working all day, and training all day, and you’ve just used the last of your chakra harassing me. Rest.”

Itachi sighed, finally looking ready to give in. “Then wake me up in a few hours.”

“I’m not doing that.”

For a moment, Itachi stared at him with narrowed eyes, calculating the use of arguing that point. He gave in remarkably easily, which Shisui thought was the biggest clue as to how tired he really was. “Fine . . .”

“Good.” Shisui kissed him again, soft and gentle. “I’ll drag you into the shower when you wake up, and we can pick up from there.”

Itachi nodded slowly, eyes sliding closed again. This time, he remained lying still. Shisui left him, and when he returned later Itachi was sleeping peacefully. There was something strangely endearing about workaholic, never-stop-thinking Itachi passed out in the fading sunset light, and Shisui wished he had a camera on hand to document the moment.

He eased into bed, careful not to jostle, or move too much, or do anything that would interrupt Itachi’s peace. He settled down as gently as he could, keeping half an eye on Itachi and freezing in place whenever the younger flinched.

_Keep on dreaming, Itachi._ Shisui had to resist the urge to reach out and touch. Itachi would never sleep through physical contact. _Just keep chasing those dreams._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was supposed to contain a lemon, but because I have the ability of a dead frog to write romance, I gave up after six attempts and rewrites. I hope no one reads this for the romance, because I can't write it to save my life. I hate this chapter so much.


	26. 25 - That's a Good Plan

Tsunade stared at Itachi.

He stared back, unblinking. The silence had gone on for a while now, while Tsunade digested all the information Itachi had presented.

“Last I checked,” she began slowly. “Both Uchihas Obito and Madara were dead.”

“I’m not wrong about this.”

“I don’t doubt you. But everyone else will.”

“I don’t think Madara is alive, yet,” Itachi explained. “But Obito will intend to resurrect him. It’s the only logical path.”

“And you have a way to defeat him?”

“Possibly.”

“I was hoping for ‘definitely’.”

Itachi hesitated. “He is not an easy shinobi to kill.”

“Well, _clearly_ ,” Tsunade sounded exasperated. “How long have you known about this?”

“About five years.” Itachi spoke again before Tsunade could verbalise whatever criticism was sure to follow. “I didn’t bring it up because I wasn’t in a position to defeat him yet. I didn’t want to goad him into a pre-emptive attack before I had enough counter measures in place. And I didn’t know his whole plan.”

“Which is . . .?”

“Obito and Madara will raise an army, take down the Leaf, and then every other village. They spoke of creating their own world of peace. And . . . my way was wrong.” That part still confused Itachi. He had a very clear path, clear plan, and he couldn’t find fault in it. Be the strongest, protect everyone else, and there was no more reason for bloodshed and violence. It was flawless. “Apparently they have a different interpretation of peace.”

Tsunade nodded. “When do you expect they’ll make an attack?”

“Obito has been scarce for a while now. I think he’s busy preparing. We might have months, we might have years.” Itachi had no idea how long it would take to form an army. Who would even be a part of it?

Tsunade contemplated for a bit. “Okay. What do you need from me?”

“The techniques I need I just to spend more time practicing.” He didn’t know how he was supposed to do that, since Shisui had made it very clear that he wouldn’t be a training partner for Itachi’s special genjutsu anymore. “And I’d like to keep Obito’s existence a secret for a while longer. There may be some backlash if his identity is revealed too soon.”

“Are you worried the Leaf will think your clan is, once again, a threat? That name of yours is a never-ending problem, it seems.”

Itachi was well aware. Between Obito’s threats of war, Madara’s imminent revival, Sasuke’s defection, and two failed coups, he was starting to feel the name Uchiha was a damn curse.

“No wonder your name didn’t come up as a suggestion for Hokage,” Tsunade remarked.

Itachi did not look amused. “That had occurred to me.”

“So, with Obito wreaking havoc, and Sasuke doing god knows what under Orochimaru’s command, how are you going to convince people that you would be a suitable, stable leader? If I knew everything I did about the Uchiha, I probably wouldn’t want to trust a village with one of them in command. So how will you convince anyone that Konoha is not a threat, and they do not need to be primed to go to war against us?”

Itachi hated politics. People blew things out of proportion, and missed obvious solutions, and lumped every Uchiha together. He sighed. “I’ll show them that I am not a threat. I am not like the Uchiha they have seen in the past. I am different.”

 “I can’t wait to see how you pull that off.” There was a touch of sarcasm in Tsunade’s tone.

Itachi chose to ignore it. “Is there anything else you need from me?” He was keen to get home, to practice more. Every day that Sasuke was gone was a struggle, and he wanted life to move faster now. He had things he needed to get done.

“Yeah, I’m tired. Don’t you want finish signing all these, so I can go home?” Tsunade gestured to the stacks of papers on her desk.

Itachi blinked. “I am not the Hokage. I can’t sign them.”

“Are you telling me that your clever eyes can’t forge my signature?” Tsunade raised an eyebrow.

“That,” Itachi began slowly. “Would be incredibly unethical.”

“Just think of it as practice for when you take over,” Tsunade waved a hand dismissively. “Wouldn’t you just love some first-hand experience at being the Hokage?”

Itachi gave her a blank look. “I’ll get the experience when I _am_ Hokage.”

“Well, then,” Tsunade laced her fingers together. She rested her chin on them, looking at him with a razor-sharp stare. “Better get your clan name cleared. I’ll make you a promise, Itachi – _off_ the record.”

He waited, interest peaked.

“If you can protect the Leaf against Obito and Madara, and bring Sasuke home, I will name you Hokage.”

“Wha . . .” He sat frozen. The words didn’t sound real. “You . . .”

“It’s your world of peace,” Tsunade said. “I want it to be yours. I want this village to be yours. You’ll do a better job leading it than I will.”

He could feel his heart pounding, in absolute delight. Against his will, a smile curled across his lips. “Really?”

“All yours,” Tsunade said. “That’s _my_ dream. To see you as the Sixth Hokage.” She leaned back in her chair, glancing out the window at the Hokage monument. “Make it happen, Uchiha.”

Everything felt warm. “I will.”

 

“Hey, handsome,” Shisui sailed breezily into Itachi’s office, a blithe smile on his face.

“What do you want?” Itachi asked flatly. He had been busy, for days now, and wasn’t in the mood for Shisui’s games and inability to get to the point.

“Why do you assume I want something?” Shisui’s smile didn’t even falter. “Why can’t I just point out your handsomeness with no ulterior motive whatsoever?”

“What do you want?” Itachi repeated just as flatly.

“I want to take you out to dinner.” The request seemed spectacularly out of place.

Itachi looked suspicious. “You had to butter me up just for that?”

“Butter, whipped cream, chocolate, whatever makes you happy,” Shisui grinned. “We can figure out the details later. So, tonight, then?”

Itachi was still sorting through Shisui’s previous sentence and trying to figure out what it meant. He blinked. “I missed something, didn’t I?”

“I’ll show you later,” Shisui smirked. “But seriously, dinner tonight?”

“Alright,” Itachi sounded dismissive. “Just tell me where.”

He seemed distracted, surrounded by papers and frowning. Shisui wondered what had him so on edge. “Everything okay with you?”

“Just doing some research,” Itachi said vaguely. Itachi was never vague. “Nothing concrete.”

“Anything important?”

“It might be.” Itachi glanced at him. “I have it under control. Just tell me what you need.”

“Wanna meet me at Ichiraku’s after work? About seven?”

“I have a council meeting; can we do seven thirty?”

“Yeah, any time is fine.” Shisui shrugged. “It’s nothing fancy, I just . . . I’ll see you later.”

Itachi just nodded, barely looking up.

Shisui left him silently, but Itachi noticed the unusually quiet departure.

 

“Since we both know this dinner was just your attempt to get me into what you deem ‘a good mood’ so you can ask me the question you really wanted to ask: what is it?” Itachi did not beat about the bush, and asked Shisui directly within minutes of their food being served.

Shisui looked nervous. He fidgeted with the red ribbon around his left wrist; a habit he had taken to when uncertain. He stared at his bowl, and Itachi waited patiently.

“I want you to come to Mist with me,” Shisui said, watching Itachi carefully for a reaction.

Itachi froze momentarily. He stared at Shisui, obviously looking for any hidden clues. After a while, he spoke slowly, “What?”

“I’m going back to Mist for a few . . .” Shisui hesitated. “Months.”

“Months?” Itachi repeated.

“Yeah, Aruku has some things he needs help with. I wanted you to come with me.”

Months . . . Itachi just stared. How could he leave Konoha for months, without warning? How could Shisui even think it was an option?

“I wanted to show you what we’ve been doing there. I wanted you to be a part of it. And . . . I’d miss you, so I thought if you were there with me, I wouldn’t miss you.”

Itachi was still staring at him.

Shisui cleared his throat softly, feeling the need to fill the silence. “It was stupid to ask, wasn’t it? I shouldn’t have bothered.”

“Shisui . . .”

“I knew you’d never say yes, but I really wanted you to. Sorry. It’s fine, it’s not important.”

“It is important,” Itachi said slowly, considering. “But . . . it’s not something I can decide here and now. I would need to make sure someone would be available to take over for me, and any planning needs to be handed over to someone else. I’d need to speak with the rest of the council as well. There’s a lot of issues I would need to think about before I could give an answer.” Itachi sighed. “Shisui?”

“Hm?” He looked up hopefully.

“But I will think about it. I will try to go with you.”

“Really?”

“Well, yes. It’s important to you. I want you to be happy.”

“I’d be very happy if you’d come with me,” Shisui said, sounding subdued. “But I know it’s unlikely. I mean, the Leaf is a mess, still. You’re short on ninja, and overloaded on missions, and security sucks, and you have all your old people meetings to deal with.”

“Could you delay your trip for a few weeks?” Itachi asked.

“Why?”

“I have an idea. But I’ll need some time to get the planning sorted out.”

“Yeah, okay. I can delay for a bit.” Shisui nodded, looking cautiously hopeful. He turned his attention back to his food, wondering what scheme Itachi had in mind now. After a short silence, he tentatively offered a different topic of conversation, “Heard anything about Sasuke?”

Itachi’s jaw tensed slightly. “No. Nothing yet.”

He had sent Naruto out alone, though, to gather information if possible. The young blonde ninja was keen to help, eager to bring Sasuke home, and Itachi trusted him completely.

“Naruto’s helping,” Itachi said softly. “He’s due back in a few days. Maybe he’ll know something.”

Itachi wanted to be outside. He wanted to scour every inch of the earth looking for Sasuke, looking for something. He needed to be out there doing things. He needed to be gathering information, learning the world.

“We’ll get him back.” Shisui told him this often, hoping it would help.

_I have to get him back . . ._ “I know.”

“And Naruto’s such a sucker, he’ll never give up.”

Itachi didn’t reply to that. He flicked his eyes to Shisui’s, briefly, before returning his attention to his ramen.

Shisui figured a change in topic might be beneficial. “So, earlier today, all those notes and things. You said it ‘might be’ important. What was it?”

“Most of it was figuring out how to achieve everything I want to achieve. Peace isn’t easy, but I’m working on it. I know where I need to go from here. And the other thing . . .” Itachi hesitated. He looked unusually anxious. “Research.”

“That’s nothing new. You’re always researching something.” Shisui didn’t understand why that would make Itachi look as nervous as he did. “. . . . What’s the matter?”

Itachi kept his gaze carefully trained away. It wasn’t the way he kept to himself when something was bothering him. This was the way he kept to himself when something was too interesting for him to suppress his excitement.

Shisui was instantly interested. “Itachi. What are you up to? What have you been researching?”

Very softly, Itachi cleared his throat. That was always a precursor to something worth hearing, and this time didn’t disappoint. Barely a whisper, but enough to hear, “Marriage laws.”

Shisui didn’t know what he had been expecting. Maybe something slightly less profound. Maybe something that didn’t make his heart thump, didn’t make an electric coil of excitement twist in his stomach. He was silent for a second, processing all the implications, all the words unsaid, all the things that Itachi was saying with anxious dark eyes peering sideways through long black hair.

“ _Oh_ ,” he settled on eventually, just a breathy exhalation.

Itachi waited guardedly, clearly uncertain of whatever was going to come next. He almost flinched when Shisui spoke again.

“ _Damn_ , Itachi, _wow_.” Shisui didn’t know what to think; what to say. “I . . .”

“I promised you,” Itachi murmured. “That the world would know you’re mine, and I’m yours. And when the time comes that I’m able to do that, I want to do it properly. Because you’re more than a friend, and more than family, and more than a lover. You’re everything. And . . . Someday, I want everyone to know that. If you’ll let me.” He finished with another nervous glance in Shisui’s direction.

Shisui didn’t think the world had ever looked brighter. “Did you tell me this in public,” he asked slowly, slightly more in control of his voice, “So I wouldn’t jump you instantly?”

“The thought had occurred to me,” Itachi admitted.

“Wow,” Shisui breathed again. The night seemed unreal. “Okay, here’s the plan – finish dinner, go home, jump into bed. That fine?”

Itachi let out a breath, relieved beyond measure. He met Shisui’s eyes without hesitation. “Yes. That sounds like a good plan.”

 

Naruto returned two days later, and Itachi dropped everything, instantly, to talk to him.

The blond stood uncertainly in Itachi’s office, blue eyes guarded, as though he expected some sort of rebuke for what looked like a mission failed.

“Did you find him?” Itachi asked hopefully, even though he already knew the answer. Naruto would not have come home alone if Sasuke had been found.

Naruto shook his head, looking disappointed. “I don’t know where Orochimaru has taken him. I can’t find him at all. No one can.” He sighed heavily. “What do you want me to do next?”

“I want you to train harder. I want you to get better.” Itachi’s plan needed to be set into motion, and now he needed to start preparing his village for a war that was sure to come, for a dream that was impossible to achieve. Sasuke might have been his personal priority, but the village was his professional one.

Naruto nodded. “I’ll still keep looking.”

“So will I.”

Naruto seemed satisfied with that. “Cool. I’ll work harder. And I’ll find Sasuke. I promise.” He was so naïve, committing blindly, that it almost hurt Itachi to think of what disappointment might befall the boy, should Sasuke never come home.

There was so much Itachi wanted to give him, to give the world, and he resolved himself, right there, to do it all – no matter what. Bring Sasuke home. Defeat Obito and Madara. Peace. Hokage. _Shisui_.

All of it.

And he couldn’t achieve it sitting in Konoha and hoping.

_Now_ , he thought, grimly and determinedly. _It’s my turn._

 

When Shisui came home that night, Itachi was poring over a map of the five countries, with numerous scribbled notes on it, and even more notes on scattered papers around the rest of the table.

“What are you doing?” Shisui asked carefully, peering over Itachi’s shoulder.

“Following a dream.”

Shisui raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Peace relies on having allies,” Itachi said, making another note on the map. “If all the villages are allied, there are no conflicts. No conflict, as I’m sure you know, means peace.”

“I feel like you’re trying to make a point, I just don’t know what it is.”

“If Konoha can align with every other village, there is no threat of war. There is no conflict. There is no fighting.”

“And . . .?”

“I want to go into every village, starting with the smaller ones, and get them to agree to peaceful terms with the Leaf.”

“That sounds like a very . . . challenging . . . task.”

“Yes.” Itachi finally looked up at him. “Shisui, if we have every one of the smaller villages on our side, they won’t assist the larger villages who are against us. And if our forces are too large to overcome, the other villages, the other Kage villages, will want to stand _beside_ us, not against us.”

“Safety in numbers,” Shisui agreed. “Fine, I get that. But what’s the plan? You just stroll into every village, asking them to be your buddies? What if they decline?”

“Then I show them that the Leaf is stronger than they are.”

Shisui took a moment to consider that. After mulling, he ventured, “You’re going to fight every village?”

“Peace is a by-product of being the strongest,” Itachi explained. “If I am the strongest, no one opposes us. You know that. And if those smaller villages are protected by the strongest village, no one else will want to fight them, because they are protected by forces too great to overcome.”

And he needed to have more shinobi standing with him than Obito could find for himself.

“You plan to be a one-man army, and showcase the Leaf’s strength. Itachi, that’s suicide. What if a whole village takes you on? You can’t defeat an entire army by yourself.”

“Yes, I can.” Itachi said quietly. He wasn’t bragging. It was a fact, one that Shisui didn’t want to admit to.

“You’re not going to do it, though, surely? Come on, this is way too dangerous to even consider. How many villages have you planned to assault?”

“I’m not assaulting anyone. I will give them every opportunity to align with us peacefully. It’s only if they chose to fight that I will show them it’s not worth it. I will overpower them only if necessary.”

“You sound like a psychopath.”

“Do you have a better plan?” Itachi asked, standing up, eyes level with Shisui’s. “Do you? We will never achieve peace if we don’t do something about it. I’m taking the next step. You’ve been sneaking in and out of Mist for years; wouldn’t you like to be able to walk in without hiding? Wouldn’t you like the threat of a revolt gone completely? A world without fighting. A world without rising death tolls. Without another war. That’s all I’m trying to do.”

“I know.” Shisui sighed. “I’m on your side, I want to support you.”

“And if I find Sasuke along the way, I’ll bring him home,” Itachi added quietly. His journey had two purposes, because surely searching every village would turn up some sort of answer to Sasuke’s whereabouts? He couldn’t have dropped off the face of the earth.

“You can’t do this alone.” Shisui looked at Itachi’s notes. “How many villages are you planning to go to?”

“I haven’t finished planning the route yet.”

“It’ll take months.”

“Yes.”

“I’m coming with you.” Shisui sounded certain.

“No.” Itachi met his gaze head on, wholly unafraid. “You’re not.”

“You’re going to get killed.”

“If I’m not good enough to do this, then I was never strong enough to bring the world peace. I _need_ to do this alone.”

“I can’t let you. It’s you and me, together, to the end, remember?”

“I know.” Itachi pulled one of the papers off the table. This one had more writing on it than the others, more deliberate paragraphs. “And that is why I want you to take over Anbu while I’m gone.”

Shisui stared incredulously at him, speechless.

“Zo and the other captains will take over while you’re in Mist. Once you’re back, I want you to take my place. There’s no one in the world I trust more than you.” Itachi held the paper up. “This is my formal letter stating you will be in charge. I’ve already drafted a list of duties and what you will need to do. The Hokage and I are meeting tomorrow to further discuss this.”

Shisui was feeling thoroughly at sea, completely lost with the entire conversation. He still couldn’t formulate a sentence.

“I will go to Mist with you,” Itachi said. “For one month. After that, I need to begin this journey.” He paused, waiting to see if Shisui would say anything. When no answer was forthcoming, Itachi continued more cautiously. “This is important to me. This is a big step.”

“So you go off to get yourself killed and I’m supposed to sit here doing paperwork?”

Itachi bit his lip. “It’s not like that.”

“It is. You’re going to take on every single village – alone – and you’re asking me to step aside and watch you ride off into the sunset on this fool’s mission that you may never return from?”

Itachi looked hesitant now. “Are you angry with me?”

“Yes,” Shisui snapped. “Because I can’t believe you think you need to do this alone. Are you fucking insane?” He felt furious; maybe it was because he knew the danger Itachi was putting himself into. Maybe it was because  . . . he didn’t know why, he didn’t care why. But he was angry. Livid. “Just you, against entire villages? How would that not make me angry?”

Itachi looked too calm. Too in control. “I know I can do this. I know I _need_ to do this.”

“It’s _just you_ -“

“’Just me’ is enough,” Itachi said. “Shisui, I know what I’m capable of. I know how strong I am. And the world needs to know it, too. I could level this whole village in one night, if I wanted to.”

Shisui let out a huff of breath. His dark eyes were still angry. “If you return,” he began, voice trembling slightly, “With so much as a scratch on you, I swear, I will murder the whole fucking world.”

“And that,” Itachi whispered, leaning close, “Is why I can do this. Because I know you’ll be there if I need you, and you’ll be here when I come home.” He kissed Shisui, gently at first, then with a bit more force when Shisui grabbed him roughly and pulled him tight against his body. “And please water my lily.”

“I suppose,” Shisui said, moving his lips to behind Itachi’s ear – always a good spot for a big reaction. “I get a promotion out of it. I’ll be Head of Anbu for a while.”

“Actually, no. That’s in name only. It’s not official. You won’t be considered part of Anbu.”

“You are a buzzkill.” Teeth closed on the skin of Itachi’s neck, and he jumped.

“It was easier that way.”

“I’ll accept this ‘not promotion’ if you’ll do one thing for me while we’re in Mist,” Shisui said, kissing gently at the mark on Itachi’s neck.

“And that is?”

“Actually _relax_. I don’t want you to fret about work, or think about work, or even do any work. I want you to just do nothing. Got it?” Shisui pulled back to look seriously into Itachi’s eyes.

After a pause, Itachi nodded. “Alright. I will. No work. Just relaxing.”

Shisui’s expression softened into a fond smile.

“You may have to show me how, though . . .”

“Oh, trust me, I’ll show you a lot of new things there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda feel like I'm setting up all these happy things to happen, and then something is going to go wrong and I'll royally screw everything. Hm. Time will tell.


	27. 26 - Fading Mist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter for: Elizabeth - so this chapter probably isn't everything you want, but that's because I've got some plans for later ; ) Hope you enjoy this anyway.

Saying goodbye was more difficult than Shisui anticipated.

After a month together, the idea of months apart was not very appealing. And the past month had felt unreal, had been so much more than Shisui had hoped and expected. It had taken three days to convince Itachi to get into the water with him, but once he did, Itachi seemed completely willing to do whatever was asked of him. Shisui dragged him out to the rock far out from shore, he led him to the rock pools dotting the base of the cliff, he showed him where the little red shell had been found.

There had been days of content, while Itachi watched and observed, looking at the things Aruku was doing. There were mostly children around; all of them injured in some way, and by the end of the first week, Itachi had two of the boys learning to play chess, whilst a little girl stood behind him and painstakingly braided his hair with one arm. And Shisui watched, from a distance, at the patient way Itachi taught, at the same time as sitting absolutely still so as not to jostle his hair at all, and Shisui had a fleeting urge to kidnap a child, followed by the thought that maybe, when they were back in Konoha, Itachi should take a few months off from Anbu and teach for a while. It would be lower pressure, more enjoyable, and it was _warm_ just watching him interact with someone without there being a need to win at whatever the conversation revolved around.

It was the nights that really stood out in Shisui’s mind, though. Night after night lying tangled together, nights that could bleed into morning without the worry that Itachi would be up and gone at any moment, because there was no where he needed to be than there, nestled against Shisui’s chest, breathing steadily, and always present. Itachi was just Shisui’s, and there was no need to share him with Konoha, and Anbu, and the council, and responsibilities and worries. It was just the two of them, sharing lazy kisses and gentle caresses, and whispered promises.

It had been a month of dreams, of quiet gratification, and there had been days when Shisui was possessed with the thought that they could just run away, just go somewhere else and be together, but then he would catch Itachi looking out at the ocean, with that little worried crease between his eyebrows, and frowning at the children that swarmed Aruku each morning; broken down, battered children, and Shisui knew Itachi wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted – a world without fighting. Without casualties.

So Shisui knew he had to say good bye, even if it hurt. Even if he had to stand still for several minutes, with his face pressed into Itachi’s shoulder, arms gripping tight, trying not to shake, before he could trust himself enough to edge back far enough to look into Itachi’s dark eyes and murmur, “Be safe.”

Itachi’s hair was still braided neatly. The little girl had done it again at breakfast that morning, taking ages to get it just right, and Itachi had not moved a muscle the entire time. “I’ll do my best.”

“You always do.” Shisui wanted the moment to last forever. Wanted Itachi to change his mind, and stay here. “I just . . . I want you to stay here . . .”

There was something shining in Itachi’s dark eyes. “I need to do this.”

“I know. Doesn’t make it any easier, though.”

The mission was estimated to take five months; Itachi was hoping for four. “I promise you, I will come home.”

“Yeah, I know.” It was strange seeing Itachi in full shinobi gear again. The entire month, he had been devoid of any weapons, dressed so casually, so relaxed. The only thing missing was his forehead protector, that was still in his hand. Shisui took it from him carefully, smoothing out invisible creases in the fabric.

Itachi said nothing.

Shisui leaned in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead, then pushed his bangs back with one hand, and tied the forehead protector securely. “Look after yourself.”

“I will.”

Then there was silence between them again. Maybe if Shisui never said good bye, Itachi would never leave. He was prepared to wait. As usual, Itachi made the first move, surging forward to close the gap between them, small though it may have been, hands flying into Shisui’s hair to pull him impossibly closer for a long, deep kiss. Itachi gripped firmly, dark hair twisting around his fingers, leaning open-mouthed against Shisui in one sudden outpouring of every emotion he didn’t know how to voice.

Shisui kissed him back with just as much raw passion, holding him tight, bodies pressed as firmly together as possible, trying to memorize the feel of Itachi against him, because he knew it would be too long before he could feel it again. And he didn’t want to pull away, didn’t want it to end, so he resisted Itachi’s first attempt to pull back, trying desperately to ignore the call for oxygen.

Itachi didn’t hurry him, but finally coaxed Shisui’s mouth away, still keeping them close, practically sharing breaths. “I have to go.”

“Don’t get killed.”

Itachi’s dark eyes stayed firmly on Shisui’s. When had Shisui failed to notice just how unbelievably beautiful Itachi was? He made a mental note to remind him, endlessly. “I won’t. I love you.”

Just like that, no preamble, no hesitation, no caution, and Shisui decided one more kiss wouldn’t hurt.

 

He was prepared for months alone. But they still dragged, and ached.

One – still in Mist, which looked so much duller without Itachi to share it with.

 

Two – Home in Konoha. He scrambled to keep up with Anbu and their brutal training schedule. Note for Itachi – _calm the fuck down, not everyone is as inhuman as you._

 

 

Three – Itachi sends a note to Konoha. He’s delayed in a village – drinking tea. It’s the poorest excuse for a delay Shisui has ever heard. The strongly worded reply receives no apology, but a little box of tea leaves is waiting on his desk one morning. Tsunade hijacks it.

 

 

 

Four – Shisui has taken to talking to the lily when he’s lonely. Izumi intervenes, inviting him out more often in an attempt to save his sanity.

 

 

 

 

Five – No news is good news . . . hopefully . . .

 

 

 

The sun was setting, the air was still, and Shisui was finally sitting down.

He had no idea how Itachi did it so effortlessly.

It had been months, and the maddening work load never seemed to abate. The clan were nit-picky and annoying, and he had entertained the idea that maybe murdering them all might have been a good route to take at some point in history. At least then he wouldn’t have to deal with the constant whinging and bickering, mostly over the fact that Itachi was not present. Itachi was welcome to them, Shisui decided. He would happily hand the reins back the instant he was able to.

Anbu had been interesting. He had grown surprisingly close to Zo, who had basically been his shadow for a few weeks until he figured everything out. Sugaru creeped him out, and he didn’t know why, but that man was just . . . weird and unsettling. Shisui didn’t know how Itachi could trust him.

The inner workings of Anbu were interesting, they were a seamless and frighteningly effective team – Itachi’s work, Shisui had no doubt – but individually, they seemed to take pleasure in irritating and teasing each other. They were downright vulgar at times, and Shisui wondered how on earth prissy little Itachi had ever fitted in.

He had a feeling, though, that his time amongst them would end fairly soon. There had been a message sent to Konoha several days earlier, announcing that Itachi was on his way home, the mission labelled a tentative success. It wouldn’t be confirmed until Itachi reported to the Hokage, but Shisui had no doubt Itachi had done exactly what he set out to do – because Itachi wouldn’t accept any results other than what he wanted.

His rare moment of peace was interrupted by a knock at the door, and he got up with a sigh.

“Yeah?”

The door opened to reveal Sakura, looking unusually bubbly. “He’s back, Shisui!”

And she could only mean one person. His eyes widened. “He’s home? Finally! Where?”

“Meeting with Tsunade-sama,” Sakura explained. “I promise it won’t take long. They just want to touch base, but I thought you’d want to know right away that he was home.”

“Thanks,” he said, genuinely thrilled. “And thanks for coming to tell me.”

“It was nothing. I’m glad I could bring you some good news.”

Once Sakura left, Shisui trotted happily back into the kitchen, figuring Itachi would probably want tea when he got home. Maybe something to eat. Or maybe just to go straight to bed and sleep, because months away from home had probably been tiring, and who knew how much fighting he had done, how much effort he had needed to get what he wanted.

Whatever he wanted, Shisui would be ready. He sat down again, feeling a twist of anticipation low in his belly, because it had been _months_ , and he could barely contain his energy. Months of sleeping alone, months of a silent house, months of watering that stupid lily. He was still musing to himself when there was a flicker of chakra from outside.

And Shisui would know that approach anywhere.

He stood up, eyes hopefully on the door. A slow smile curling around his lips, as Itachi stepped into the doorway, eyes already on Shisui’s.

“Hey.” Shisui said, staying still just long enough to look.

Itachi looked tired, older, as though his venture had been exhausting and long – it must have been, Shisui realised that. But even as tired as he looked, Itachi was smiling at him, dark eyes soft. “Hi.”

“Gods, I missed you,” Shisui closed the gap between them, striding forward so he could cup Itachi’s face in his hands, tilting his head for a passionate kiss.

Itachi mumbled something into his mouth, Shisui was willing to assume it something along the lines of ‘missed you too’. He pulled back after a moment, thumb rubbing gently along Itachi’s cheek.

Shisui leant his forehead against Itachi’s. “I want you. So bad.”

“I figured.”

Shisui chuckled. “Good to know you’re still a jerk about these things.”

“You like it.” Itachi’s smile was soft, dark eyes shining.

“I _love_ it,” Shisui corrected, turning his head for another long, slow kiss. He felt Itachi move, hands coming to his hips, and after a moment of consideration, Itachi’s right hand slid around to Shisui’s back.

“For gods’ sake,” Shisui said, pulling back and grabbing at Itachi’s wrist. “How many times have I told you ‘ _no’_ , stop poking me in the back?”

Itachi tried to pull his wrist free, testing Shisui’s hold. When he couldn’t shake Shisui’s grip, he shrugged, leaning forward, lips tantalizingly close, and whispered, “Forty-three.”

Shisui did not expect him to actually have an answer. For some reason, he found it insanely hot that Itachi was keeping count. “Bedroom or kitchen table?” He needed a decision to be made quickly, and even more importantly, he needed Itachi to have less clothing on.

“Bed.” Itachi pressed his body against Shisui’s, free hand making an attempt for the older boy’s back.

Shisui grabbed that wrist as well, eyes narrowing. “Fuck you.”

“That is the plan.”

And it was hard to get angry at that sort of statement. Especially when Itachi, with both hands pinned, moved his mouth to Shisui’s neck and bit hard, hips driving forward at the same time, in an insistent manner. The sensations sent shivers up and down Shisui’s body, and he practically dragged Itachi through the house, absently kicking the bedroom door closed behind them.

Itachi finally broke his hands free from Shisui’s grip, pulling his shirt over his head in one swift motion, sword, Anbu vest, and all, before almost diving at Shisui’s shirt, fingers gripping firmly, pulling hard and removing it easily, and within the same motion Shisui pushed him closer to the bed.

Itachi sat down on the edge of it, hands on Shisui’s hips, and leaned his forehead against Shisui’s stomach. Shisui flinched involuntarily as the cold metal of Itachi’s forehead protector pressed against his warm skin, his hands settling on Itachi’s shoulders as the younger pressed soft kisses against the centre of Shisui’s belly.

Shisui swallowed hard. With hands slightly shaking, he pulled the tie from Itachi’s hair, fingers undoing the knot of fabric behind his head and flinging the forehead protector carelessly to some corner of the room. Itachi’s thumbs hooked into the waist of his pants, and Shisui’s breath hitched slightly in anticipation. Itachi was apparently in no hurry, as he let out a warm breath against the skin of Shisui’s stomach, thumbs pulling Shisui’s pants down just a bit, until a flat plane of hip bone was revealed, caressed by a slowly moving finger.

Shisui did not have the patience for Itachi’s infuriating scrutiny. He twisted the fingers of one hand into Itachi’s hair, pulling his head back and glaring at him. “No, not this time. It’s been _months_. I have zero patience right now.”

Itachi said nothing. His dark eyes flicked up to Shisui’s for a fraction, then down again, and he pressed a gentle kiss to the protruding bone, lips lingering, learning. Shisui pushed him back, shoving hard, until Itachi let go and lay innocently on his back, trying to supress a smile.

Without further ceremony, Shisui shoved his pants off, then reached over to Itachi and yanked his off as well. There was a short pause, Itachi’s interest now peaked, and he stared unashamedly at Shisui’s, eyes roving everywhere, checking that everything was the same as it had been before he left.

Shisui straddled him, knees framing hips, leaning down to press another kiss to Itachi’s lips, hands sliding up his arms and entwining their fingers. Itachi bucked up against him, wrenching a moan from Shisui, who ground his hips down in response, sick of games and waiting and just wanting to get on with things.

He tangled one hand in Itachi’s hair, mouth never leaving the other’s. Itachi’s free hand moved to Shisui’s thigh, squeezing hard, then he tried to get it between their bodies, although there was a lack of space with them pressed firmly together. Shisui wasn’t sure who’s erection Itachi was aiming for, but knowing him, probably his own because he was a selfish bastard when it came to sex, most of the time.

It didn’t make him any less hot, or amazing, or all the other things Shisui thought of him. It did mean Shisui needed to tease him again, lifting his mouth off Itachi, catching the wandering hand, and grinning. “You’re a jerk.”

“You said you had no patience, yet you’re delaying things.”

“Hm,” Shisui leaned his head down, lips behind Itachi’s ear. It never failed to elicit a response, in this case a shudder. “Maybe I have patience now.”

He pulled Itachi’s hands above his head, pinning both wrists with one hand, leaving his other arm free to make dramatic flailing motions in the direction of Itachi’s bedside shelves until he hit the drawer he was looking for, pulled it open, and rummaged inside.

Itachi tensed under him, anticipation coiling every muscle tight. His hands closed into loose fists, chest jumping. Shisui could hear him breathing, slightly raspy, breathy, like he’d never heard it before. The sound made his heart jump.

“Hurry up,” Itachi said, breathlessly, wrists straining slightly against Shisui’s hold.

“Give me a minute,” Shisui said, finally closing his hands around the bottle of lube they kept stashed. He let Itachi’s wrists go, sitting back slightly. He had snapped the cap off the bottle and was frozen in the act of preparing to pour some of the oily liquid onto his fingers when Itachi made a frustrated growl deep in his throat.

“Don’t bother,” Itachi said, narrow eyes hooded.

“It’s been months, it’s going to hurt,” Shisui warned.

“I don’t care.”

Shisui drew in a deep breath, considering. Itachi’s eyes were on his, looking almost deadly in the low light. He did not look to be in the mood for negotiation. “Fine, but when you hurt in the morning, do not blame me.”

There was a small smirk playing at the corners of Itachi’s mouth. He laid his head back, eyes sliding closed, the way he liked to wait. He let his hands remain where Shisui had left them, above his head. There were several heartbeats of nothing, anticipation building, and he finally felt the slick tip of Shisui’s cock against him he jerked slightly.

“You good?” Shisui asked, placing a hand on Itachi’s hip.

He nodded. “I’m fine.”

He focused on breathing. Months without Shisui had left him wound up and over eager, tense from waiting and tense from fighting. He felt Shisui press harder against him. There was a moment of nothing, just pressure without anything giving, then he felt tight muscles pulled even tighter as Shisui’s tip forced its way inside him. He screwed his eyes closed tighter, an involuntary gasp escaping him breathlessly.

“That hurt?” Shisui sounded concerned.

“Yeah,” Itachi nodded. “Yeah, but it’s fine. Keep going.”

Itachi could hear Shisui’s tense and rather reluctant exhalation. He figured he could worry about Shisui’s aversion to causing him pain later. Now, he flexed his hips up to meet Shisui’s, the aching stretch increasing, but even through the hurt it felt so good. Once he felt Shisui stop moving, fully sheathed inside him and so satisfying, he opened his eyes.

Shisui looked worried, hovering over him with a slight frown on his face. “You okay?”

“Please stop asking that.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

_Well, too late now_ , he thought, but kept the notion to himself. “It’s fine. You know I don’t mind.”

“But I do.”

Itachi reached a hand up to the back of Shisui’s neck and pulled him down for a hard kiss. When Shisui pulled back, Itachi’s eyes were red in the dim light. “Just get on with it.”

_Always an argument_ , Shisui thought, rather fondly. He kissed Itachi again, biting his lip gently, and it made the fingers at the back of his neck tighten suddenly. Itachi was not patient anymore. Shisui loved that. Itachi was always calm and collected when things were getting started, but the minute they got beyond a certain point, he just wanted to get it done.

Which meant it was Shisui’s turn to tease, pulling almost completely out of him, slow and easy, and then ease back in. And he could go as slow as he wanted, ignoring the narrow red eyes of his partner. Itachi didn’t tell him to hurry, but he did push up to meet each of his thrusts hard, glowing eyes locked onto Shisui’s, narrowed in warning. A hollow threat. Shisui wasn’t afraid.

He planned to take his time, because he knew it would irritate the hell out of Itachi, and they were both childish and selfish at times, but Itachi interrupted his plans with a particular tilt of his hips, and Shisui’s thrust hit that special spot inside him that made him shudder and groan so beautifully that Shisui’s self-control decided to fuck off.

He thrust hard, uncaring if it hurt. Itachi never seemed to mind anyway. And certainly didn’t mind now, if his reaction was anything to go by. In response to Shisui’s ragged, uncontrolled rhythm, he gripped Shisui’s hips firmly, fingers digging into skin, head tossed back and breathing open mouthed, one leg hooking around him and pulling hard.

The slightly breathy rasp to his breathing was back, and Shisui continued to pound into him, wanting to hear it more. He could tell he was hitting the right spot, over and over, by the way Itachi’s grip on him tightened, and within minutes Itachi let out a beautiful groan, clenching around Shisui as he came.

He lay lax afterwards, eyes closed, while Shisui thrust into him a few more times, pressure building, until he came with a full body shudder, muffling a groan into Itachi’s shoulder. For a moment, he lay still, catching his breath.

Spent, and thoroughly satisfied, Shisui pulled out of him gently, kissing his chest softly when Itachi winced, body tensing slightly. He sat back on his heels, for a moment taking the time to just look at Itachi. His eyes were closed, breathing open mouthed, there was a faint outline of ribs visible beneath his skin as he breathed.

Shisui lay down next to him, laying a hand on his chest, feeling Itachi’s heartbeat, smiling at it, because there were both here, now, alive and it had been so long. Itachi opened his eyes to look at him, peaceful and gentle once more.

Shisui pressed a lazy kiss to Itachi’s neck, one hand still on his chest. He was still breathing hard. “You’re out of breath.”

“Out of practice.” Itachi amended.

“Okay.” Shisui snuggled happily into Itachi’s side. Itachi was warm, and comforting. He closed his eyes, a smile still stuck on his face.

_I’m glad you’re home_ , he thought. _And you got what you wanted_.


	28. 27 - Secrets

Shisui was woken in the night by a sound he hadn’t heard before – Itachi coughing. It was wet and raspy, and he jerked awake, on the alert and ready for any sort of attack. Itachi’s back was to him, pale skin pulled tight across his back as muscles spasmed, and Shisui was about to question if he was okay when the coughing stopped.

Shisui waited, in case Itachi spoke. There was nothing but the harsh rasp of Itachi’s breathing, then it settled into silence again. Itachi pushed back into the warmth of Shisui’s body, and Shisui automatically held him close.

Itachi said nothing, and within minutes had drifted off to sleep again.

When Shisui woke in the morning, he was lying alone, and he heard the tell-tale sounds of water running from the bathroom.

He had got up, and was eating breakfast, when Itachi wandered into the kitchen with his hair damp and loose.

“You okay?” Shisui asked, chewing thoughtfully on his breakfast. “You were coughing last night.”

“I’m fine,” Itachi said tiredly. “I think it’s just a cold. Don’t worry.”

“Okay.” Shisui blessedly dropped the subject, continuing to eat without further questioning. “Doing anything today?”

“I have a meeting with the Hokage. We discussed the mission in detail last night, and I gave her my report, so this is just to make sure everything is in order. It shouldn’t take long. I couldn’t find Sasuke, though. He’s not within any of the villages.” Itachi didn’t know where Orochimaru was hiding, but it he knew now it was somewhere not marked on any map.

“Sorry,” Shisui said. “I know you were hoping to find him.”

“I will.”

“I know. How did the mission go?”

There was a glimmer of pride in Itachi’s eyes, a rare display of self-satisfaction. “As expected.”

Shisui smiled broadly. “Every village? You got them all to align with us?”

“That is what I set out to do.”

“I’m impressed,” Shisui said, still delighted at Itachi’s safe return. “So, just the other four Kage villages, right?”

“Well, three. Suna is already an ally.” When Shisui didn’t say anything else, just continued to stare at Itachi with a soft smile on his face and absolute adoration in his eyes, Itachi shifted. “What?”

“You’re just perfect, you know that?” Shisui’s eyes were locked onto Itachi’s. “Only you could walk outside the village and turn half the world into friends.”

“It’s what I needed to do.”

“It doesn’t make the achievement any less phenomenal.” Shisui stood up, coming to stand in front of Itachi so he could kiss him softly on the lips. “I’m so proud of you.”

There was a warm, contented glow in Itachi’s eyes. How many steps closer to the dream had this mission put him? Probably dozens, and it felt tangible now, like it was finally attainable. There had always been doubt in the back of his mind, that he alone wouldn’t be able to achieve what he wanted, but the joyous success of the last few months muted any doubts he had left.

_I can do this_ , he thought, looking into Shisui’s dark eyes. _The dream I’ve been chasing for so long . . . I’m catching up to it._

 

“Well,” Tsunade said, settling comfortably in her chair and eying Itachi over the desk. “I’ll bet you enjoyed sleeping in your own bed again last night.”

“Quite.”

“Anyone put up a fight?” Tsunade asked, skimming over Itachi’s report. It was long and looked tediously detailed. Maybe she’d read it properly later. After a few drinks.

“A few villages,” Itachi admitted. “But I kept fatalities to a minimum.”

“Hm,” Tsunade linked her hands together and leaned back in her chair. “You did the impossible, once again. Your record looks more and more impressive each year.”

“Thank you.”

“I would like you to take some time off. I can imagine you must be tired.”

“I have Anbu duties. I’ll get back to those.”

“No,” Tsunade shook her head. “Shisui is handling it for now. Take some time to wind down. You don’t have to dive headlong into the next mad scheme you come up with.”

Itachi accepted that with a small nod. “Alright. I will take some time off.”

“Great. Anything else?”

Itachi hesitated. There was something.

“Can we talk privately?” Itachi asked, flicking his eyes in the direction he knew there were hidden Anbu guards.

Tsunade raised an eyebrow. “Something you need to discuss?”

“Very off the record.”

She ‘hm’ed, but after a moment, called out. “You guys can leave. It’s fine.”

Itachi waited, tracking the chakra of each Anbu guard until they were out of range. He took a breath then, because what he needed to say was hard, something he didn’t want to admit to. Something he hadn’t been able to handle on his own. He locked hard eyes onto Tsunade. “There’s something wrong with me. I’m sick.”

Tsunade gave no visible reaction.

“It started a few months ago while I was away. None of the medics I saw in the smaller villages could help.”

“Symptoms?” Tsunade asked clinically.

“Tired, shortness of breath, dizziness, loss of appetite.” Itachi paused. “Sometimes coughing up blood.”

“That sounds rather serious.”

“I thought that as well, it’s why I’m here.”

Tsunade pursed her lips. “Come back this evening. We can do a full physical work up then, after hours, and see if I can find anything.”

Itachi nodded once, and stood up. “Thank you. I’d appreciate discretion on the matter until I have an idea of what it is.”

“You have my word, I’ll remain silent,” Tsunade promised. “Anyway, there’s no reason getting worked up if it’s nothing.”

Itachi knew it wasn’t ‘nothing’. ‘Nothing’ would have gone away by now. This had been lasting for months. He also had the added concern of failing eyesight. That, at least, he knew was his fault, and he was adapting. In order to keep alive, to keep chasing his dream, he had used his Mangekyou a lot more than he had wanted to. He had brushed up against some rogue ninja while he was away as well, and they had been strong and unpredictable opponents.

If Shisui knew how many close calls he’d had, the older shinobi would have likely had a heart attack – which would have been a nice role reversal, after years of recklessness from Shisui which left Itachi agonizing and fretting over his decisions.

But that didn’t matter to Itachi. That was in the past, and he had made it through. All those battles were behind him. There was a terrific sense of accomplishment in his chest, because he had managed a mission that had sounded impossible even to him. Reaching for something he wasn’t sure he could attain had been a challenge, but a welcome one. And the months away had sharpened his skills, added more attacks to his arsenal, honed techniques to perfection.

He was confident he could defend the Leaf from anything now, if only his body did not fail him. It had been subtle at first, and he had brushed it off.

Taking a few extra minutes to catch his breath after a hard-fought battle hadn’t seemed very consequential.

Developing a cough in the high-altitude villages in the mountains hadn’t seemed that out of place.

Wanting to just sleep in the freezing cold of the snow covered Yukigakure didn’t seem very unreasonable.

It was only when all that compounded on top of each other that he realised something had gone wrong. Something deadly and dangerous had slipped into his system. And he needed it gone.

Later that evening, he returned to Tsunade, pleased to find that she had kept this meeting secret as well. There were several medical textbooks on her desk, some of them covered in dust and obviously not referred to for years.

“What exactly are you testing for?” he asked quietly, watching with mild interest as Tsunade drew some blood before sending her chakra into him to inspect his organs.

“Everything. I have to assume the worst, since it’s you. You don’t get sick, so I figure it’s something we need to take seriously. I’m hoping not, though-” She cut herself off abruptly.

Itachi felt her chakra spike involuntarily. He remained standing perfectly still, but asked hesitantly, “What happened?”

“There is a lot of pulmonary haemorrhage. Have you been having difficulty breathing?”

“Sometimes.”

Tsunade was tight lipped as she continued her assessment. The flow of chakra tingled, making Itachi’s skin buzz in a strange way. He could feel her apprehension.

The buzzing feeling under his skin ceased, and Tsunade stepped away from him with a heavy sigh, shaking her head and moving to her desk to lean against it, regarding him critically.

He waited patiently for an explanation.

“I don’t know what to call it yet,” Tsunade said. “But you look like shit.”

A delicate eyebrow raised in question.

“How have you done that much damage to your lungs and not be dying? Bloody hell, Itachi. It looks like scarring on your aorta as well, have you been having chest pains at all?”

He hesitated. “Yes.”

“For how long?”

This time there was an even longer pause. “. . . Since I was thirteen. I thought it was from something else . . .”

“Oh my shit, how did you even survive this long? You’ve probably been having low grade heart attacks or something. Does your left arm ever hurt?”

“Yes . . . But I thought that was something else . . .” He added somewhat reluctantly, “I broke it quite badly. It’s often hurt since then.”

“How do you not _notice_ heart failure? How do you keep functioning with that level of pulmonary bleeding? Why are you such a medical disaster?”

He was feeling unfairly victimized. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“I need a drink. You’re exhausting me, and you’ve only just got back.” Tsunade waved him away. “I’ll let you know what I find in a day or two. Try not to cause any more trouble.”

“I didn’t cause any trouble . . .”

“Go home,” Tsunade said firmly. “Gods, you Uchiha are always causing problems . . .”

Itachi took that as a dismissal, and left.

 

It was the next day that Tsunade called him back.

Her office was devoid of Anbu guards once again, but this time Sakura was standing at her side, looking immensely uncomfortable. Itachi eyed her, and sent Tsunade a questioning look.

“Don’t give me that look, Uchiha, I needed someone to help me with the absolute train wreck that is your body.”

“You’re making this sound like it’s my fault.” He responded a bit defensively.

“Itachi,” Tsunade sighed. “I don’t have good news. I can’t even give you a proper diagnosis, because I’ve never seen it before. I can only tell you the symptoms I can see, and all we can hope to do it treat those. Whatever underlying problem there is; I’ll keep looking.”

Itachi nodded briefly.

“It seems your lungs and heart are starting to fail. I can only assume that’s due to physical stress from years of pushing yourself too much. There’s bleeding in your lungs, on and off, which you’ll have noticed. As long as you’re coughing that blood up, I’m not too worried. I’ll start getting worried when you _don’t_ cough it up. And your heart . . . well, we’re going to have to treat that and hope for the best. But for gods’ sakes _tell_ me if you’re having chest pains.”

Itachi waited until Tsunade paused before asking cautiously, “Is this  . . . curable?”

Tsunade did not answer immediately. “Possibly.”

“Maybe ‘curable’ isn’t the right word,” Sakura added. “It is ‘survivable’, if we follow treatment and it works.”

“This is non-negotiable, Itachi, we’re starting treatment right away. And I need you to follow it to the letter,” Tsunade emphasised. “No shortcuts, no ‘forgetting’, no ‘mistakes’. I don’t know any healing techniques that could help, but I’ll see what I can find.”

“I will do whatever is needed,” he said solemnly.

“You’re one of the Leaf’s most valuable assets,” Tsunade said heavily. “I don’t want to lose you to something like this.”

“I understand.”

“So look after yourself, _properly_. In a week, we’ll take another look at you and see if anything’s changed.”

He nodded. “Alright.”

“Don’t do anything stupid. As it is . . . I’m worried we may have caught it too late for treatment to be truly effective. Go with Sakura, she’ll get you what you need.” Tsunade waved him off, looking exhausted.

Itachi got up, ready to follow. Sakura offered him an encouraging smile.

“I suppose,” Tsunade said, as the two young shinobi were at the door, “If anyone can survive this, it’ll be you.”

 

Shisui was trying to sleep. He was exhausted, and the day had been long, and intense. All he wanted was to drift off into blissful unconsciousness.

Itachi was preventing that.

Shisui kept his eyes firmly shut, trying to ignore the fingers trailing down his chest, and extra ignore it when the path they had mapped was followed by gentle kisses.

“I’m trying to sleep,” he hissed, because this had gone on for a few minutes already. Why did Itachi always insist on such thorough inspections of his person?

“It’s alright. You don’t need to be awake for this.” Itachi’s warm breath ghosted onto Shisui’s stomach, and he felt blood rush dizzyingly south.

The fingers repositioned on his collar bone, tracing it lightly, almost reverently.

Shisui’s breath left him in a loud whoosh. “You’ve been acting weird since your meeting with the Hokage. Did something happen?”

Itachi didn’t answer. He pressed another kiss to Shisui’s stomach.

“What are you doing?” Shisui asked with a reproachful groan.

“Looking.”

“You already know what I look like.”

A gentle kiss was pressed to his throat. “We’ve been apart for months. I just want to look.”

“Then look with your eyes and not your cold fingers- ah!” Cold fingers were obligingly replaced with a warm tongue. Shisui wanted to smack one of their heads against the wall, and he didn’t know which of them deserved it more. Probably Itachi, because for him, this wasn’t sexual. This was mere exploration. He did it every now and again, often after long periods of time spent apart. This was just learning, mapping, familiarising himself.

He was studying Shisui, memorising him intimately.

When Shisui was awake, it nearly always led to sex. Now that he was trying to sleep, he didn’t know what to do with himself. “Itachi . . .”

“Hm?”

“Why can’t you be a normal person?”

“Luck, I guess.” It was an unusually sassy answer, and Shisui opened his eyes in the dimly lit room to peer down at Itachi’s glimmering red ones. Itachi smiled at him, soft and gentle, and laid his ear against Shisui’s chest, listening to his heart beating. The fingers of one hand trailed the muscles along his side.

Shisui tried to remember to breathe.

“I want to touch your back.” How did he always make these obscure questions sound normal?

“Can’t we save study sessions for when I’m not asleep?” Shisui whined.

Itachi hummed slightly, his ear still pressed to Shisui’s chest. “You don’t look asleep from here.”

And Shisui’s dick twitched of its own accord, because knew Itachi was staring right at it, and well, he wasn’t wrong. It looked very much awake. Shisui swallowed. “I was _trying_ to sleep . . .”

In the next instant, all thoughts of sleep fled as Itachi slid his hand down Shisui’s stomach and under the waist band of his pants, closing his hand somewhat curiously around Shisui’s shaft. Under Itachi’s ear, Shisui’s heartbeat sped dramatically. “Now none of you seems very asleep.”

“Are you going to do something about it, or just be a teasing jerk?”

Itachi’s hand tightened a fraction, and Shisui jumped slightly. Itachi pressed a smile to his chest, but remained infuriatingly still.

Shisui’s patience lasted about two seconds.

“That’s it,” Shisui pulled Itachi’s hand away, sliding off the bed and making a determined route for the bathroom. “Give me five minutes, and I’ll be back and you can continue with whatever nonsense you need.”

“You don’t have to leave,” Itachi said softly, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. He waited patiently, listening with half a smile to the irritated mutterings from the bathroom, then turning his head towards the door when there was a period of silence. After a few minutes, Shisui stalked back into the room, and flopped face down onto the bed with a muffled groan.

“You didn’t have to storm out,” Itachi said reasonably, rolling onto his side and placing his palm against Shisui’s spine. “I would have finished eventually.”

Shisui grumbled something. But he stayed still while Itachi traced gentle patterns on his back, learning the curve of his shoulder and the angles of tight muscles. He tensed once, when Itachi leaned over to press a gentle kiss to the dip at the base of his spine, because usually when Itachi aimed for that spot it wasn’t very pleasant.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Itachi said, kissing the dip again.

“Itachi, I love you, but you’re a filthy liar.”

Shisui could feel Itachi’s warm smile against his skin. He whispered softly into Shisui’s skin, voice tender and achingly honest. “I love you too.”

It sounded beautiful in the dim moonlight, and Shisui smiled, letting his eyes slide closed. He could feel sleep creeping in. Hard muscles relaxed under Itachi’s gently probing fingers, and Shisui fell asleep with to the feel of Itachi’s quiet exploration.

 

< Several weeks later >

“You were coughing again last night.”

“It’s nothing,” Itachi said, idly pushing breakfast around on his plate.

“It’s been going on for a while.”

Itachi didn’t look up at him. “I told you, I’m fine.”

He wasn’t fine. He knew that; he didn’t want Shisui to know that. One of them suffering was enough.

“Something is bothering you,” Shisui said. His voice was soft, but still firm. Slightly demanding, because he knew there was a secret. He didn’t know why, because Itachi had never hidden anything from him before.

Itachi’s dark eyes flicked to him. For a moment there was still, frozen silence, then Itachi stood up, turning away. “I’ll be late today.”

“You didn’t finish eating.”

“I need to go.”

“Itachi,” Shisui grabbed his hand as he tried to leave, forcing him to stop. Their eyes met, black to black. Itachi stayed silent. “What’s the matter with you? You’ve been acting strange lately.”

“I’m fine.”

“You always say that.”

“Because it’s true.” Itachi pulled his hand free. “I need to go.”

“Okay . . .” Shisui remained where he was, feeling a nervous twist of unease in his stomach. _You’re hiding something from me . . ._

_I need to know what it is . . ._

 

Tsunade did not look pleased. She frowned at him, eyes narrowed, and he waited patiently.

“It’s been almost five weeks,” she said. “Five weeks of treatment, and it’s not working.”

He knew that. He could feel it.

“I don’t know what to say, Itachi. I can’t think of anything else.” She rubbed a hand across her forehead. “Have you told anyone?”

“No. And I’d like to keep it that way.”

Tsunade nodded, looking resigned. “Yeah, I understand that. I want you to take fewer missions. Try to stay in the village. Keep taking your medication, maybe it’ll make a difference. Maybe it’ll slow it down.”

“You don’t think it will,” Itachi stated.

“Your body is so far beyond saving at this point. I don’t know how you’re even breathing, with the amount of damage to your lungs. You should be dead already, but of course you Uchiha can never do things the easy way. At this point, we just wait and hope. Maybe you’ll manage. Maybe you’ll be fine.”

“There is one more important mission I need to do.” Itachi’s dark eyes were serious. “While I was away, I found out about an organization called Akatsuki. They are a group of rogue ninja. I think they are a significant threat.”

“I’ve heard of them,” Tsunade said. She raised an eyebrow. “So what do you want to do?”

“I want to put a team together.”

“And then what?”

“Eliminate them,” Itachi stated simply. “I gathered intelligence about them all; I have already come up with a strategy. I know who I want to take with me. I’ve even written up a preliminary report on it.”

“Fine.” Tsunade sounded resigned. “But this is your final S-ranked mission until your health improves. Put your team together, and don’t get killed. Do you need my help with anything?”

“I think I’ve got it all under control. I’ll let you know when my team is ready to move out.”

“You make it sound like it’s a routine mission,” Tsunade rolled her eyes. “Can you not see how dangerous this will be?”

“As a matter of fact,” Itachi replied, a rare moment of brash attitude showing through, “No. I don’t see much at all these days.”


	29. 28 - The Painful Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shisui shows off his fabulous levels of tact

Shisui found Kakashi wandering idly around Konoha, back from a mission and taking his time to stroll home. He took a moment to collect himself, feeling unusually rattled, and called out a greeting as he approached. “Hey, Kakashi!”

“Hm?” Kakashi raised an eyebrow, wondering why Shisui was seeking him out. “Ah, Shisui. Yo.”

“Want to go out for drinks?” Shisui asked, looking hopeful beneath his usual casual cheerfulness.

“Why?”

Shisui glanced around, as though looking for hidden spies. He answered much more quietly than usual, “Because you know Itachi the best, after me. I thought he might have told you something he hasn’t told me.”

“You think he’s hiding something from you?” Kakashi asked, looking rather doubtful. Itachi might be silent and secretive with his work, but everyone knew he would happily chat to Shisui about anything.

“Can we just go somewhere else?” Shisui’s dark eyes looked anxious. “Somewhere to talk.”

Kakashi sighed. It wasn’t often that Shisui was hysterical, so it occurred to him he should probably pay attention to it. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go get a drink.”

Once Shisui and Kakashi had situated themselves at the bar they usually went to, Kakashi waited for Shisui to start nattering. It did not happen as soon as usual. A long silence stretched between them before Shisui heaved a deep sigh.

“You ever have a problem in your relationship, and you don’t know how it got there?” Shisui asked, staring rather balefully into his sake.

Kakashi raised an eyebrow. “You two are having problems?”

“I don’t know.” Shisui frowned. “I think so. Maybe?” He made a frustrated noise. “Maybe it’s a problem. Maybe it’s just me. But . . . yeah, problem.”

“Do I want to know what this problem is?” Kakashi ventured.

“I don’t know. You know Itachi well, maybe he’s said something. Maybe you know why he’s just . . .” Shisui shrugged helplessly. “Just Itachi. Only with less sex.”

“What?”

“A month and five days,” Shisui said, sounding defeated. “That’s how long it’s been. And it’s not like I’m not trying. See the problem is this: Itachi has the sex drive of a dead panda.”

“I didn’t really need to know that.”

“Is it me?” Shisui asked, looking utterly vulnerable, and Kakashi took pity on him and didn’t leave immediately. “Maybe it’s me.”

“Knowing Itachi, it’s not you.” Kakashi said. “Come on, you know how uptight he gets. He loves you. But he gets a bit too into his work.”

“It’s not work.” Shisui answered surely. “We spend a lot of time together. But he’s tired all the time, and just doesn’t want to. Like, we’ll try to get into it, but it doesn’t matter what I’m doing, he just . . . doesn’t get into it.”

“I’m not sure I’m qualified to be in this conversation . . .”

“Has he said anything to you? Has he mentioned anything?” Shisui looked hopeful.

Kakashi shook his head. “Itachi and I have barely spoken in months. And even when we do, he isn’t very forthcoming about personal details. He definitely hasn’t mentioned anything about . . . your physical relationship . . .”

“What if he’s done with me?” Shisui dropped his gaze down. “What if he doesn’t want me anymore?”

“Why don’t you just ask him?” Kakashi suggested sensibly.

Shisui stared at him.

“It’s Itachi. He likes things direct. He probably hasn’t even realised you’re worried.”

“What am I supposed to say? ‘Hey, Itachi, I noticed our dwindling and dying sex life and I just wondered if that was because you don’t like me anymore or if maybe you’re just secretly a panda and never told me’?”

“It’s a start,” Kakashi tried not to smile at Shisui’s obvious distress, but it was pretty amusing from an outside perspective. He patted the younger shinobi on the back encouragingly. “Come on, you’ll be fine. Have a few drinks to get your courage up. Maybe get him something nice, like some bamboo.”

“You’re not taking this seriously.”

“No, I’m not. Because it’s you and Itachi. You love him – not entirely sure why sometimes, but hey – and he doesn’t spend time around people he doesn’t like. So he must love you, because you’re always together.” Kakashi clinked his glass into Shisui’s. “Drink up.”

Shisui shrugged, downing his sake in a gulp. “Fine, you’re probably right. Just don’t tell him I called him a panda, okay?”

“I might not be able to help it,” Kakashi said casually.

“No, seriously, he will kill me.”

“Sometimes things like that just slip out without me noticing.”

Shisui grumbled. “Just _don’t_! And if you do, and I suspiciously turn up dead, you better feel guilty about it.”

“Meh, you’re so dramatic. Itachi won’t kill you over that.”

“That’s what you think,” Shisui said with a frown. He sighed again. “What if everything goes wrong? I can’t lose him, Kakashi, I can’t do that. I can’t live like that. I walked into his life when he was five, and I’ve never wanted to leave.”

“Go and talk to him,” Kakashi said firmly. “You Uchihas dramatize everything.”

“If I don’t come back, please send someone to investigate my murder,” Shisui said, taking another nervous drink.

“Will do.”

Several drinks later, Shisui summoned the courage and coordination to make his way to Itachi’s office, feeling more nervous than he ever had on any mission. And for some reason his brain was telling him those A- and S-ranked missions were not nearly as dangerous as this one.

So it was not without some trepidation that Shisui stood outside Itachi’s door. He took in a deep, nervous breath, and knocked at the door, nearly leaping out his skin when Itachi answered within seconds.

“I know it’s you, Shisui. You don’t have to lurk.”

“I wasn’t lurking.” Shisui opened the door and stepped inside, eyes roving awkwardly around the room, everywhere but at his cousin. He closed the door behind him, wandering aimlessly around the room.

“What do you need?” Itachi sounded weary, sitting back in his chair and watching Shisui’s odd, erratic actions.

Shisui fidgeted with his shirt, and looked out the window. He wandered over to the desk, absently shuffling papers. And, as always, he assumed being direct was the best route to go, and before he could think of a better constructed sentence, he blurted out, “Why don’t we have sex anymore?”

There was a long, heavy pause.

Itachi’s eyes flicked down to the papers around his desk, as though they had the answers. He seemed to be thinking hard, considering an answer, taken off guard by Shisui’s blurted question.

“It hasn’t been . . . that long,” he ventured, sounding unusually unsure.

“It’s been a month, Itachi,” Shisui said softly, staring at the floor. He shrugged one shoulder. “I thought it might be me. I didn’t know what I’d done, but . . . But it must have been me, right?”

Itachi stared at him.

“I just don’t know . . . _why_. What did I do wrong?” He finally looked up, dark eyes anxious. “Itachi . . .”

“It’s not you. It was never you.” With a frustrated sigh, Itachi stood up and turned away, moving restlessly to the window. He stared outside, at the village spread out below, and ran one hand through his hair.

“Then what?” Shisui edged cautiously closer. “What is it you don’t want to tell me?”

Itachi closed his eyes, a pained look on his face. “I wanted it to be a secret. I didn’t want you to know.”

“Know what? It can’t be that bad, and it’s you and me to the end, so whatever-“

“I’m dying, Shisui.”

Shisui felt his blood run cold. The world screeched to a halt. “… What?” His voice was a tremor, a shiver of fear running through it.

Itachi shook his head slightly, and opened his eyes again. “I’m sick. There’s something wrong with me. I might have a few years left.” He sighed heavily. “Not many. Not enough. I don’t know.”

“Why . . . why wouldn’t you tell me?” Shisui finally managed, his voice barely a whisper and almost drowning in anguish. “Itachi . . .”

“I didn’t want you to worry. I didn’t want you to focus only on that and not on . . . not on the things that matter . . .”

“You’re the only thing that matters,” Shisui said. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, and I-“

“Exactly,” Itachi interrupted. “That is what I wanted to avoid. Because now you’re going to worry the whole time. You’re going to worry about me, and I don’t need that. What I need is to carry on as I have been, as though nothing has changed.”

“But it has.”

“Don’t make this harder,” Itachi faced Shisui, expression serious. “Please. Don’t make me regret telling you. For now, nothing has changed. Nothing is different. Please, let me live while I can.”

Shisui was standing completely still, unnervingly immobile. He swallowed hard, and Itachi watched him shift almost imperceptibly. Then, suddenly springing back to life, he made a grab for Itachi’s shoulders, closing the distance between them with a powerful pull, and forced himself upon the younger, mouth latching almost possessively onto Itachi’s.

The kiss was hard and powerful, wracked with emotion, and it startled Itachi in place. Once he gathered his wits, he pushed Shisui away. “I don’t need your pity,” he snapped.

“Good,” Shisui growled back. “Because you weren’t getting it. I’m going to fuck you _mercilessly_ when you get home.”

Itachi’s eyes narrowed, anger flaring. He didn’t know what was making him angry – Shisui, or Shisui’s words, or his own failing his body, or his lack of control over it. He just knew that he was angry, and it wasn’t an emotion he was used to. He didn’t know what to do with the feeling. “Now.”

“What?” Shisui faltered slightly, not understanding.

“Take me home. Now. You have to the count of three.”

Shisui grabbed his shoulders. He glared into Itachi’s eyes. “One.”

He flickered them both away, holding Itachi close, pulling his chakra along with his own. They reappeared outside for a brief moment. Shisui re-gathered himself, focusing. “Two.”

In the next moment, he had hurtled them both to Itachi’s house, missing his mark just slightly and slamming Itachi hard against the door, mouth pressing insistently against his. He pulled back long enough to growl, “Three.”

Itachi’s hands gripped his shoulders tightly, fingers digging into hard muscle, slightly disoriented by their unconventional journey home. He pressed himself firmly against the older boy, one hand fumbling the door open. They stumbled inside, still joined at the mouth, and Shisui figured one more shunshin wouldn’t harm anyone.

He flickered them into the bedroom, losing his balance slightly and staggering against Itachi. Itachi bit his neck hard; Shisui didn’t know if it was in irritation or passion, and he wasn’t going to ask. His assault was interrupted though, as Itachi coughed once, and Shisui felt something damp on his neck.

He was standing alone in the next instant, watching Itachi retreat to the bathroom. “Itachi?”

He followed, and the sounds of coughing started again, deep, rib-cracking sounds. For a moment, Shisui stood in the doorway, concern clouding out the strange mix of anger and passion he had been feeling.

Itachi was bent half over, the coughing continuing, and suddenly there was a disconcerting spurt of blood flying from his mouth. Shisui jumped, startled. Itachi sank into a crouch, feeling dizzy, a hand pressed against his mouth in an attempt to stifle the blood. It was not working.

“How have you been hiding this from me?” Shisui asked as the coughing continued, coming to kneel next to Itachi with a hand on his back, and trying not to flinch every time blood spurted from between his fingers.

When Itachi was finally able to breathe, he explained, “This happens sometimes. Sometimes if I take my medication late. Also, I think your shunshin made me sick.” It had been nauseatingly disorienting; Itachi was unused to the distance at such high speeds.

“And what, exactly, was your plan? How long did you think you could keep it from me?”

“I was hoping the treatment would work and you’d never have to know.” Itachi hung his head, lips still red with blood. It dripped from his hand onto the smooth tiles of the floor.

Shisui stood up, running both hands through his hair in a rare show of confusion and exasperation.

“I need to make a few changes, though,” Itachi continued. “Tsunade isn’t very happy with how things are going. Says I need to gain more weight.”

“How much have you lost?” Shisui asked, suddenly suspicious, because Itachi had never been particularly well built to start with.

“Not . . . not a lot,” he said uncertainly, wondering if this would escalate into another fight.

“How much?” Shisui repeated firmly. “Don’t mess with me, Itachi, I’m already done with your shit.”

Hesitantly, Itachi unbuckled his Anbu vest, letting it drop to the floor, sliding his arm guards off as well as he stood up, before another pause, hands already at the bottom of his shirt. When Shisui said nothing, he reluctantly pulled his shirt over his head. He knew Shisui would see the difference, they both knew each other’s bodies well. His collar bones were sharp angles, sharper than ever, and the lines of his ribs were faintly visible, no longer layered in thin muscle.

Shisui sat down on the edge of the bathtub, suddenly feeling as though the world was reeling out of control. He stared, unbelieving, at the line of Itachi’s ribs, the flat planes of his stomach that were supposed to be more ridged than they were. He knew Itachi’s body as well as he knew his own, and it was not supposed to look the way it did.

“Shit,” he said faintly, unable to think of anything else.

Itachi put his shirt on again, silently, eyes cast down. “It’s not that bad.”

“It might be considering how you always push yourself too far,” Shisui sounded dazed. “You shouldn’t be working. You should be resting.”

“I can’t.”

Shisui let out a shuddering, open-mouthed breath. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Pulmonary haemorrhage. Mainly. Slight . . . cardiac irregularities . . .”

Shisui’s gaze snapped up. “You’re having heart problems?”

Itachi looked at the floor. “A little bit.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

Shisui didn’t know what to think. He felt numb. The entire situation seemed so completely out of place, like some terrible nightmare. He stayed silent, trying to process it. Staring blankly and wondering what he was supposed to do with this information. Itachi remained quiet as well, sliding to the floor with his back against the wall, and for ages, they just sat opposite each other in total silence.

Itachi wished he could see Shisui’s face more clearly, to try to understand what was going on within his dark eyes and stony expression. But from this distance, he couldn’t pick out the details.

“Does anyone know?” Shisui finally asked, in a low voice.

“Tsunade and Sakura.”

“So Tsunade knows about all this, and she still has you running missions?”

“That was my choice, not hers.”

“And you’re . . . I mean . . . Could you survive this?”

“There’s a possibility.” Small. Growing ever smaller. “I’ll be fine . . .”

“’Fine’?” Shisui let out a sharp breath. “I just watched you throw up blood, collapse on the floor, and you want me to believe you’re fine? Fuck . . .”

Itachi sat quietly. He didn’t know what else to say. _I’m sorry . . ._

“I told you, you shouldn’t have gone on your mission alone.”

“You being there wouldn’t have made a difference.” It was probably the wrong thing to say.

Shisui stood up abruptly, leaving the bathroom without another word.

Itachi waited a few minutes, gathering the strength to follow. He finally hauled himself to his feet, wandering around until he found Shisui sitting outside on the wooden railing surrounding the porch. Shisui did not look at him as he approached. Itachi stood quietly, before murmuring, “Are you mad at me?”

“Yeah.”

“Because I’m sick? Or because I didn’t tell you?”

Shisui shot him a look. “What do you think?”

Itachi didn’t answer. After continuing to glare for a few seconds, Shisui looked away. Itachi tried again, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to worry you. I didn’t think it would be a problem.”

“I don’t want to talk right now. Just give me some time.” Shisui kept his frown trained firmly upwards at the darkening sky.

Itachi stood with him for a moment more, before turning away. There wasn’t anything he could say, and Shisui didn’t want to hear it anyway. He went back inside, going to sit in his study. He didn’t turn the lights on, he had no reason to. He wasn’t going to work, he just wanted to sit down, and mull, and muse in the peaceful silence of the room.

He opened the top drawer of his desk. There was nothing work related in here. It was all personal – birthday cards from Sasuke since the boy was old enough to write his name, notes from his mother if she was going to be out when he got home from work, his father’s police force badge, various other things, and one little velvet coated box that had been there since he returned from his long solo mission.

The ring inside was plain and simple – silver, not gold, because Shisui preferred silver, and no markings. It had been staying nestled in the drawer because Itachi didn’t know how to say what he needed to say, and then life had rolled out of control. And now . . . now there might not be a future.

He held the little box in his hand, staring at it, and just thinking about what was inside, and what it meant, made his chest ache more. He pressed the back of his knuckles to his mouth to stifle any coughing; he could feel it starting to build again.

“Hey.” Shisui stood in the doorway to the study, not coming inside, arms folded in front of him. It was a strangely vulnerable looking posture for him.

Itachi closed his hand more firmly around the box, hiding it from Shisui’s view. He raised tired eyes, but stayed quiet.

“I’m going out. Don’t wait up.”

Itachi didn’t trust himself to speak. He just nodded instead, a short, unintentionally dismissive motion.

Shisui turned away, and Itachi listened to his footsteps trudging through the house, then the soft thud of the front door closing. With a heavy, defeated sigh, Itachi tucked the box back into the drawer, carefully covered so it wouldn’t be visible immediately upon opening, and he slid the drawer closed.

For a long time, he sat alone in the dark study, feeling every heartbeat. Each little thump was a pinprick of pain. It had been a long time since Itachi had felt like putting his head on his desk and just despairing of life and the world and the sudden impossibility of his dream. He did it now, the burning in his chest increasing, and closed his eyes, feeling smooth wood under his forehead, and sharp pain behind his ribs. He gripped the red shell around his neck with one hand, and just tried to focus on that.

It was better than focusing on himself.

 

It was the middle of the night before Shisui returned. Itachi didn’t open his eyes, didn’t even flick his chakra to let Shisui know he had been heard and acknowledged. He remained lying firmly on his stomach, one arm under the pillow, because it was the most comfortable he could get with the nagging dull ache in his heart.

He listened to the soft rustles and steps as Shisui prepared for bed, and the familiarity of Shisui climbing under the blankets next to him was surprisingly soothing. Shisui smelt faintly of sweat and alcohol, so Itachi assumed his little jaunt must have contained some sort of combination of frustrated training and most likely a few drinks with whoever he could find. Shisui never drank alone.

“I’m still angry,” he mumbled, laying on his back and staring at the dark ceiling. “But I’m not leaving.”

Itachi finally turned his head to look at Shisui. All his could see in the dim light was the faint outline of his face, and a little star of white reflection in his eye.

“I don’t care if the future for us ends tomorrow, or next week, or in fifty years. I’m not leaving you. Not giving up on what we have. I want to wring your scrawny neck, though, because you should have told me. I thought we got rid of that misplaced martyr complex of yours years ago, but apparently you’re still a fucking idiot and I stopped noticing.”

Itachi smiled.

“It’s you and me, forever,” Shisui swallowed loudly. “So you know what? Bring it on. Whatever your immune system is doing – _bring it on_. I’m here, and never leaving, and we’re still going to chase that stupid dream of yours, and bring Sasuke home, even if I have to carry you. Whatever you need. I’ll give it to you.”

Itachi didn’t know if he should move closer. He didn’t know if Shisui wanted him any closer. How angry was he? He shifted just slightly, then hesitated.

“Oh, for gods’ sake,” Shisui snapped. “It doesn’t matter how mad I am, if you want to cuddle, we can cuddle.”

“You sound angry.”

“You sound sick.” Shisui hooked a hand under Itachi’s arm and yanked him closer. Itachi turned around to press his forehead into Shisui’s chest, snuggling into place. Shisui was still muttering to himself.

“Who were you drinking with?” Itachi muffled a yawn against Shisui’s shirt.

“Anko. Who then proceeded to hand me my arse when we trained together. Apparently, I do not hold my alcohol as well as she does.” Shisui twisted his fingers idly through Itachi’s hair. “But it was fun, up until the point where she punched me in the stomach and I threw up. I might get teased about that in the future. I’ll say it was your fault. . . . Have you gone to sleep?”

Shisui received no answer. He sighed. “Yeah. At least now I know why you’ve been so tired lately.”

And there was still no answer, just Itachi tucked up against his chest, looking beautifully relaxed. Shisui eased his fingers free from Itachi’s hair, suddenly unwilling to wake him by accident. He lay awake for a long time, thinking, listening, because there was a faint difference in the way that Itachi breathed now.

_I’ve got you_ , he thought, as Itachi shifted slightly in his arms. _No matter what happens. Always._


	30. 29 - Akatsuki Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I didn't want to spend six thousand chapters tediously detailing every battle against Akatsuki, because I am not an anime and do not need fillers and forty episodes to get through one fight. Thus the entire lot of them are split between two chapters so no one got bored. As always, shout out to my sister for providing the actions, impressions and sound effects while I'm writing.
> 
> This also means the next chapter is already written and will be up in a day or so - although, fight scenes are not my forte and these two chapters feel a little sub par, but I will survive.
> 
> Also: I know Tenzou is now technically Yamato (Pick a name and stick with it, dude) but since it would be awkward to change half way through a story I am just ignoring that little detail. Hope you enjoy.

Itachi’s special team was assembled in his office, listening attentively as he outlined his mission plan.

They were a well-rounded, experienced team, and Itachi had worked together with all but one of them.

“This mission is scheduled to take a week. The primary objective: eliminate the Akatsuki. I’ll explain the details regarding our attack on the way. Two of you were not my first choices for this team, but I had to make do with what I had.”

He hadn’t wanted Anko and Tenzou. He had wanted Hyuuga Neji and Morino Ibiki, but neither of them were available. He had considered pulling in someone from the Nara clan, but figured Tenzou would be just as good, and slightly more experienced. They had also worked together before numerous times, so Itachi knew his techniques and how he liked to fight.

“One of you is only here because you whined all night about Sugaru being my second choice in a team mate, and if anything goes wrong that I know he could have prevented I will not be amused.”

Shisui shrugged. “I’m not apologizing.”

Itachi narrowed his eyes. He knew Shisui’s insistence on joining this mission was for one reason only – misplaced concern over Itachi’s health. Shisui would be the only person on the team aware of Itachi’s physical limitations. He wasn’t going to start an argument now, certainly not in front of his team.

But he did corner Shisui, grabbing his wrist before he could exit, as the rest of the team filed out to prepare for departure, saying in a low voice, “The only reason you are here is because you insisted. But remember that nothing has changed. So you won’t mention anything to anyone about me.”

Shisui met Itachi’s eyes stubbornly.

“You are the only person who knows I’m slightly sick.”

“Slightly?”

“And we’re going to keep it that way. Understand?”

“For now.” Shisui’s dark eyes were serious. “Unless I feel it’s going to interfere with anything.”

“It’s personal information not pertinent to the mission.”

“My mission is to get you home safely.”

“Your mission is to do what I say,” Itachi growled. “And if you can’t do that, I will call Sugaru in to replace you.”

Shisui said nothing. He turned away, pulling his arm free. Itachi did not stop him. There was still a vaguely tangible tension between them, and Itachi was unwilling to let it interfere in any way with what they needed to do. It had been one of the reasons he wanted to leave Shisui behind.

That, and he was still feeling guilty about hiding things from him, and thought the distance might be helpful, or at least ease his mind. He knew Shisui was angry at him – that was no secret, and he couldn’t blame him, but it was something so foreign for them that Itachi didn’t know how he was supposed to react.

Once the team was underway, and Itachi could explain his strategy, he had to admit that Shisui was more than useful – because he knew one of the members of Akatsuki, and a large number of the techniques the missing nin used.

“Shisui,” Itachi started with him first, edging close enough to be heard over the rushing wind as they moved at a lightning fast pace through the treetops. He wanted to get the mission finished as soon as possible, so there would be nothing left to focus on but Sasuke’s retrieval and Obito’s defeat. They were heading for the Mountain’s Graveyard – several days away. “You know Hoshigaki Kisame?”

“Yeah. Is he my primary target?”

“If you can manage him alone.”

Shisui sent Itachi a smug little smile. “Of course I can.” He looked nonchalant. “Aruku told me about him. I can handle it.”

Shisui was well versed by now in the lore and legends surrounding Mist, and Aruku was a conversationalist by nature. Months spent together had offered Shisui the opportunity to learn all of Mist’s great warriors’ techniques and histories.

Itachi looked relieved. “Good. I was worried I might be over facing you.”

“That’s rude.”

Itachi’s crooked little half smile let Shisui know he was joking. It was a welcomed moment of levity, a quick signal that things were actually okay – if slightly tense - between them. Shisui returned the smile with a casual shake of his head, and, satisfied Shisui was as prepared as he could be, Itachi leapt away to Anko’s side.

“Hey, Boss,” she said cheerily.

“Since Sugaru isn’t with us, you’re taking on his primary target,” Itachi skipped nonsensical formalities. “His name is Sasori – from Suna; he’s a puppeteer.”

“That’s easy enough. Naruto already made friends with one of those, and we saw his techniques in the Chuunin exams.”

“Yes, but Sasori also uses poisons extensively. Be careful.”

“It’s not our first mission, Mini Captain. I can handle it.”

“You tend to be over confident, and that’s what worries me. None of these shinobi are easy – we all need to be cautious.”

“You tend to be _over_ cautious,” Anko pointed out. “But, message received. Will engage with caution.”

Itachi nodded, satisfied with that. He moved across to Tenzou, who looked at him expectantly, awaiting orders.

“Your target, Deidara, uses explosive jutsus,” Itachi summarised. “So long range attacks, only. I don’t want you getting in too close and getting hurt. You’re the best defensively on the team, which is why I’m aiming you at him.”

“Not a problem.” Tenzou nodded. “Consider it all handled, Mini Captain.”

Itachi sighed. He didn’t retaliate against the nickname, figuring his energy would be better spent preparing his team rather than scolding them. He moved to Gai.

Gai was the only member of the team Itachi had never been on a mission with – not directly, at least; he had shadowed one of Gai’s missions when he first started in Anbu, but he didn’t count that. Gai was mostly there to act in tandem with Kakashi if needed – the two were close, and worked together well, and Itachi wanted to make sure someone was available to watch Kakashi’s back if anything happened.

“Your target, Kakuzu,” Itachi said, “Is rumoured to be difficult to kill. So hit hard, and hit fast. He’ll try to hit back faster.”

“There is no one faster than me,” Gai flashed a brilliant smile.

It occurred to Itachi that his team was carrying more ego than ability, but he decided to keep the observation to himself. Besides – Shisui was faster. “Nonetheless, be careful. There is a reason these particular shinobi have survived as long as they have – they are very powerful.”

“And so is your team,” Gai responded cheerily. “We have everything under control.”

_I hope so_. Figuring Gai was not going to listen to any more caution, Itachi moved on to Kakashi.

“You’re second in command if something happens,” he murmured.

“Are you expecting something to happen?” Kakashi asked, sounding as neutral as possible.

“The remaining two Akatsuki members will be handled by me. But that’s . . . not counting Obito.” He was the only one truly worrying Itachi, because Itachi didn’t know what to expect. Half of him thought Obito would take a gap and run, because it was clear that he wanted more confrontation than Itachi’s little team of six. But he couldn’t bank on Obito not attacking, he had to assume the worst. “I think he’ll attack me first.”

“Obito’s dead,” Kakashi interjected quietly.

“You can decide for yourself in a while,” Itachi replied. “The one I want you to focus on is Hidan – he’s immortal.”

“So your plan is?”

“Tear him to bits, and then separate the bits,” Itachi said simply.

“That sounds rather cold-blooded, for you.” Kakashi raised an eyebrow. “But it sounds like the only option, if he’s as immortal as you say.”

“If my sources are correct – and they usually are – then it is the only way. It was the recommended way.” Itachi looked solemn about the decision. “The fact is, there won’t be any redemption on this mission. These shinobi are not going to listen to logic, or any sort of attempt to sway their morality. They are going to attack hard, and they are going to intend to kill.”

“You want us to hit back, just as hard?” Kakashi mused. “You’re right. It’s probably the only way.”

Itachi nodded once, flitting away again.

Kakashi closed the gap between himself and Shisui, coming up on the Uchiha’s left side.

“How’s your panda?” Kakashi asked in a low voice, tilting his head in Itachi’s direction as he moved from team mate to team mate, outlining strategies and plans.

“Don’t,” Shisui groaned. “If he hears that-“

“Yeah, yeah, he’ll kill you.” Kakashi rolled his eyes. “Did you talk to him?”

“Yes.” Shisui checked how close Itachi was, calculating the odds of him overhearing and being alerted to the conversation. “We’re fine.”

“All that drama from you, just for ‘we’re fine’.”

“Well, yeah,” Shisui shrugged. “We talked. It’s sorted. We’re fine.” He couldn’t exactly divulge what they had talked about. He was still coming to grips with Itachi’s illness, emotions flicking back and forth between worry and fury. He had no doubt Itachi was feeling the same way. He did a better job at hiding it – probably because he had had weeks of extra practice. Shisui was still feeling bitter over that; it felt like Itachi didn’t trust him completely.

He knew that was nonsense, the real reason Itachi wouldn’t say anything would be the same one it always was – Itachi was a hopeless, self-sacrificing martyr that Shisui couldn’t cure. Wherever possible, he would shoulder all the blame and all the burden for everything out of some misguided attempt to spare Shisui. It drove Shisui nuts, because he was more than willing to help.

He sighed, eyes on Itachi, watching critically for any sign that Itachi was flagging in his energy and ability. He knew it would be impossible to see; Itachi wouldn’t let on to anyone how he was feeling, not when there was a clear mission to achieve first. Shisui would have to judge and estimate for himself.

He just hoped Itachi knew his limits.

 

They touched down at the Mountain’s Graveyard a little after midday, after two days of travel at Itachi’s chosen, brutal pace.

“What’s the plan, Boss?” Anko asked, looking around at the massive bones of animals and dense vegetation around them that promised to make fighting difficult. “Knock on the door and see what happens?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of a surprise assault,” Itachi replied blandly, used to Anko’s casual demeanour.

“You want to flush everyone out at once?” Tenzou asked. “Think they’ll be that stupid?”

“Once they see how many of us there are, I’m hoping ‘yes’,” Itachi explained. “They can only take us on all at once – otherwise we’ll overwhelm them in numbers alone. So, yes, I want them attacking all at once. If I have them in a concentrated area I can help with genjutsu, as well.”

“How many of them can you drop with Tsukiyomi before you collapse?” Shisui asked.

“Four. Maybe five.”

“We’ll call that Plan B,” Shisui suggested.

“You’re sure about the numbers?” Tenzou asked. “Seven of them? And possibly one dead Uchiha?”

“That’s all the information I could find,” Itachi said. “If there are any others, we don’t know about them – and he’s not dead.”

“We’ll improvise,” Shisui shrugged.

With one short nod, Itachi looked to Kakashi. “If you wouldn’t mind, I think an Earth Release jutsu would get their attention.”

Kakashi nodded, looking delighted. “Sounds fun.”

Itachi sent Anko a sideways look.

She grinned. “Shadow snakes might get their attention too, Mini Captain.”

He nodded, at the same time as Kakashi slammed both hands onto the ground, and everything around them shook, and rippled, the loud rumblings rising from the ground. Anko sent several snakes flying from her, and they slithered and writhed into the visible openings to the hideout.

They did not have to wait long. Kakashi had barely risen to his feet before Itachi could sense chakra approaching. Not from the main entrance – he wouldn’t have expected that. He knew there would be hidden entrances.

The first thing that emerged was a little white, floating object. It was round and looked thoroughly innocuous drifting through the air towards them.

“What is that meant to be?” Gai asked quizzically.

“Cotton ball?” Shisui ventured.

Another one followed, and by now they could see the shadow of a person. Curiously, Shisui tossed a shuriken at the closest white ball.

It erupted into an explosion, powerful enough to knock Shisui back.

“Tenzou,” Itachi said sharply.

Tenzou nodded once in acknowledgement, and flashed through seals to enclose the second ball into a cavern of tightly woven wood. There was a shudder as it detonated, and the shadow finally stepped into the light, looking manically pleased.

“Art is an explosion!” he declared.

“That must be mine,” Tenzou muttered.

“Good luck,” Anko shrugged.

Tenzou flashed away, ready to engage. It was at the same time that Hidan came ranting out of the main entrance, brandishing a huge scythe. He was followed close behind by Kakuzu – looking much calmer, but no less intimidating.

Kakashi and Gai sped into position, and Itachi felt Shisui’s chakra flicker once or twice, before he vanished from view – no doubt seeking out Kisame.

From the same entrance Deidara had come from, another shadow emerged. Slow moving, but projecting menace.

“Be careful,” Itachi muttered to Anko.

“Yes, Boss,” she replied flippantly. She was gone in moments, and within mere seconds Itachi could hear the tell tale clicking of wooden puppets. He hoped Anko knew what she was doing.

It was the last two – Pein and Konan – that Itachi was waiting for. He expected them to try to sneak away, knowing that at least one of them would need to escape and stay alive for whatever mad plan Obito was scheming. So he was watching, Sharingan flicking back and forth, to try to pinpoint the exit they would take.

He spotted them to his left, quite far away.

 

Konan and Pein had one goal in mind – to get away from the fighting and regroup elsewhere. The plan would fall apart if all of Akatsuki was lost, and it was a risk Pein was unwilling to take. So they had made their way to one of the further exits, intending to return once Itachi’s attacking team had been eliminated.

They were edging away, cautiously avoiding being seen, when their path was blocked by a sudden burst of fire. Pein snapped his head around to look at Itachi.

For a tense moment, no one moved.

Pein spoke first. “You must be Itachi. I’ve heard you’re a real nuisance, and difficult to get rid of.”

“I’m also going to win,” Itachi responded.

“Our mission is not to die here,” Pein replied.

“One of us is going to be disappointed,” Itachi said. “It won’t be me.”

“Trying to attack us both at once will not end well for you,” Konan said. “You’re going to get killed.”

“I’ll take the risk.” Itachi was calm, and ready. “I’ve heard I’m difficult to get rid of.”

 

Shisui had eyes on Kisame the instant the huge, hulking blue ninja emerged, radiating calm confidence. This was a man used to being in control, used to winning.

Shisui flickered in front of him before he could move to the aid of anyone else.

Kisame stopped, looking him up and down. His expression twisted into a feral smile. “Uchiha, huh? You really think your eyes are match for me?”

“Yes, I do.” He needed distance – trying to fight here, with the trees blocking them, and boulders in the way, was not the way he wanted to fight. To get Kisame to follow him, he had one thing to depend on.

He flickered, reappearing several metres away.

“What are you trying to do?”

“Nothing,” Shisui answered innocently. “I was just moving to a more appropriate location. A place better suited for you. Unless, of course, you don’t think you’d be able to defeat me.”

“I won’t need an advantage to do it,” Kisame replied confidently. His hand moved to the massive white sword on his back.

Shisui flickered away again, moving deeper into the forest, standing on a high tree limb. He knew Kisame would follow. He wouldn’t give up on a fight, not now, not once he had seen what Shisui could do. Anywhere Shisui went, he was certain Kisame would follow.

Sure enough, Kisame leapt into the trees, and Shisui jumped away, leading him through the forest in long, well calculated leaps.

“Where are you running to, Uchiha?” Kisame was right behind Shisui, grinning menacingly.

_An open space._ Shisui needed a clearing, needed anywhere where he could shunshin without fear of whacking himself into a tree. Close quarters were not his favourite.

“Shunshin no Shisui, aren’t you?”

“I’m flattered you know me,” Shisui shouted over his shoulder.

“Everyone in Mist knows your name.”

Shisui was about to respond with whatever snarky comment came to mind first when he felt it – a sudden change in the air behind him, like a strange pull, and in the next instant he felt a biting pain against his lower back – not good!

He flickered away, spinning to face Kisame as he reappeared.

Kisame’s massive sword was no longer wrapped safely in white cloth, but now crawling and pulsating, dragging towards Shisui’s chakra.

Shisui gathered himself. There wasn’t much space around them, but it would have to do. He couldn’t run any further. The skin on his back felt damp, and stung, as though it had been grated off him, and knew he could not let that sword touch him – even coming close had been enough to do damage.

“I’d like the infamy of being the only Mist shinobi to take down the Body Flicker,” Kisame sounded delighted. The sword rippled and growled. “And Samehade would like that too.”

“Sorry,” Shisui dropped into a defensive stance. “But I don’t get taken down.”

 

It was certainly different, being attacked on all sides by paper. Itachi liked to think hours spent in his office had prepared him for this – and then he realised he was thinking like Shisui, and he needed to get his mind back on the right track.

When his first blast of fire proved ineffective, and Pein was flying at him from all sides with numerous shadow clones, Itachi had one second to consider, and weigh his options, before he wondered – would the genjutsu he used on Shisui be able to control shadow clones? Could he use it on more than one person at a time?

It was powerful, but immensely draining. Was it even worth the risk?

He felt a ground shaking shudder from some other battle, and that gave him the answer he needed – these were not opponents to be trifled with. These were not shinobi to take lightly, or hold back on. This was very much a question of who could hit who first – which meant a pattern of escalation would be stupid. Breaking out the more powerful techniques right from the start would be prudent.

Itachi leapt away from a swarm of paper, Sharingan analysing, and taking note that the edges were hard and razor sharp. He had to move again immediately as Pein attacked from behind, and that’s when he decided the risk was justified. He swung his body, eyes searching for Pein, and got him into his line of sight easily – he threw the genjutsu forwards, clamping down into Pein’s mind instantly. Without waiting to see if it held, he leapt aside to catch Konan’s eyes as well, and then he had them both immobilized, staring at him with matching expressions of surprise, and, as they realised that were standing completely at his mercy, slowly morphing horror.

It took a mere thought to explode every shadow clone, and then Itachi had Konan’s deadly paper in his grasp. He could feel the waver in mind – desperate attempts to break his hold – and he pushed them down. He flared his chakra, feeling, until he located the other Akatsuki members – all but Kisame; where had Shisui gone? – and he sent the barrage of knife edged papers flying in all directions.

The rest of Akatsuki were clearly not expecting an assault from their own team mate, because as far as Itachi could tell – sensing chakra, he couldn’t see any of them at this distance – none of them made an attempt to dodge. He assumed the attack hit exactly as he wanted. The waver in his mind was stronger now, but he didn’t let the genjutsu go. He could hold it.

There was a sudden, loud explosion above Itachi’s head; he ducked automatically, although it was out of range to do damage. The surprise of it snapped his illusion, and Konan and Pein both dropped bonelessly to the ground.

The smoke dissipated above him, and then there were three more tiny explosions in rapid succession. It all sounded very dramatic.

“Tenzou, how are you doing?” Itachi called out, trying to get a check on each teammate. He wished he could see them clearer; he moved towards the sounds of battle, wanting to get in and help.

“Got a splinter!” Came the shouted response.

Itachi closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his patience. He wondered if they all acted this inane on every mission, or if the constant teasing, harassment, and lackadaisical attitudes towards their tasks was purely for him.

He snapped his eyes open when he felt something else, some sort of sudden appearance of chakra far too close, and narrowly avoided getting his head sliced off by Hidan’s massive, swinging scythe. He flipped back; the blade came dangerously close, and he was about to retaliate when he heard the unmistakable crackle of Kakashi’s chidori. It sounded slightly different, more intense, and Itachi snapped his eyes towards the Copy Nin, wanting to know what had changed.

The ball of snapping blue lightning was no longer a ball. Kakashi thrust his arm forwards, and the chidori stretched outward like a whip, cutting into the ground and tearing through the earth in a long, blue, wild line towards Hidan.

Itachi had no idea Kakashi could manipulate it to such a degree. He took a second to watch carefully, because a wall of deadly lightning sounded like something he might want to use in the future. Especially when he saw Hidan, still moving with the swing of his scythe, touch the streaks of electricity, unable to move in time, and the hand that encountered it exploded into raw chunks of flesh.

Itachi didn’t have much longer to analyse; he leapt away at Hidan’s sudden exclamation of rage, taking to the thick trees. He still couldn’t locate Shisui. How far had he gone? Was he alright?

Gai spun into Itachi’s line of sight, shouting in his usual cheerful tone of voice as he sailed past, “This is a challenging opponent!”

A long, tendril like arm was following him. Itachi sighed, and jumped after him to help.

 

Shisui didn’t think he had ever been more grateful in his life for his body flicker technique than now, as Kisame’s massive sword brushed against his arm, and in an instant had bitten through his skin and was tearing chakra from him. He flashed away, leaving a streak of blood hanging in the air, and reappeared far away enough to flash through seals.

Kisame spun to face him, his feral grin in place, fully expecting no problems in dispatching one small Uchiha – only to be surrounded in mere seconds by dozens of flat, icy-looking mirrors. Shisui was reflected in every one, impossible to pinpoint which one was real.

Kisame froze in place. “This is a Mist technique.”

“Yeah, well,” every Shisui in the mirrors moved as one; there was nowhere to go. Kisame stayed still as he felt the long, incredibly sharp blade of Shisui’s tanto against his throat. “I had a good teacher in Mist.”


	31. 30 - Akatsuki Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now for Part 2 of 'Watch Me BS my Way Through Fight Scenes.'

Itachi had long since taken out Pein and Konan, incapacitating them both with powerful, well-placed genjutsu, and he was paused now with his back to a tree while his eyes burned and blood was beginning to leak from one of them. His left arm was shaking again, slow to respond when he tried to move it.

He didn’t know if the rest of his team were winning or losing. Tenzou had been guiding, nullifying and containing increasingly large explosions, and Itachi had watched Gai be thrown around like a ragdoll, but he continued to get back up and fight again – Itachi had helped as much as he could, and they had smashed through all but one of the seemingly important masks adorning Kakuzu’s body. Shisui had long since vanished, out of range, and Anko was systematically working her way through a myriad of deadly puppets – she had not needed Itachi’s interference at all, and he was very impressed.

It felt like they were winning, but Itachi was unsure. Kakashi’s job was probably the hardest, against an opponent that was seemingly never dying, despite Kakashi’s best efforts. Wiping the blood from his cheek, Itachi jumped in to help, sword drawn and slashing down onto the nearest body part Hidan had displayed.

It was a stroke of luck that his approach was not noticed, and an even bigger stroke of luck that the limb Hidan had swung in preparation to do god knows what to Kakashi happened to be the arm holding his massive, three bladed scythe. Itachi’s blade cut right through, and in the same instant Kakashi launched a chidori at Hidan’s chest, the chakra ripping through flesh.

Itachi didn’t pause – he knew there was no choice here but to utterly destroy Hidan’s body – and he repositioned himself, sword flying over Kakashi’s head to slice into Hidan’s neck cleanly. Kakashi pulled back, flashing through seals, then slammed both hands into the ground, opening up a massive, deep hole. Every last bit of Hidan’s broken and mutilated body fell into the opening, and at the same time Itachi’s Mangekyou flared, and the body parts leapt into flames.

Kakashi closed the hole, looking satisfied. He straightened up, throwing Itachi a well-hidden but obvious smile. “Team work!”

Itachi was about to reply – mouth open and words ready – when he felt a tremble. It was not Deidara, who had been a background earthquake throughout the fight. This was something . . . _more_. This was pure, raw power. Itachi didn’t have time to analyse the thought before he caught a glimpse of the familiar orange mask flashing at him – impossibly fast, he wasn’t ready – and then he was slammed backwards, hitting the rough bark of a nearby tree, feeling his throat close.

Obito sounded livid, his voice a dark snarl. “What are you doing here?”

Itachi tried to choke out a reply around the hand crushing his throat, but wasn’t able to. His Sharingan wavered, then he seized control again, flashing them both into Tsukiyomi.

Kakashi saw the attack start, and, taking advantage of that single second that Obito was still, levelled a powerful kick at his head. Itachi snapped back to reality with a gasp as Obito was flung away, the mask bouncing off into the soft forest dirt between them. He blinked, vision blurring. He knew he had a few seconds, at least, not even Obito could shake off Tsukiyomi like it was nothing.

He hadn’t expected Kakashi to freeze in place, staring with poorly concealed horror at the face in front of him. Obito took full advantage of the moment, vanishing in a sudden puff of smoke, no doubt reeling from Itachi’s assault, and unable to fight for long.

It took Kakashi longer than Itachi would have expected to recollect his thoughts, remaining frozen in place until Itachi was finally able to breathe again, and see, albeit hazily, the forest around him.

“Believe me now?” Itachi asked.

“You can save your sass for later,” the Copy Nin snapped back.

“Might not have time later.” Itachi blinked, struggling to clear his vision. “We’ve got a job to do.”

The forest around them was thick and impenetrable, making it near impossible to tell who was nearby. All Itachi knew was that Tenzou was still fighting – he could hear it. He flared his chakra, feeling for the others. Anko flared back instantly, Anbu training kicking in, and after a short pause there was an answering flare from Gai. It was more hesitant.

“Gai needs help,” Itachi breathed.

“On it.” Kakashi was gone before Itachi could say anything further.

Itachi followed at a slower pace, figuring it would be better to conserve what energy he had left.

The area close to the hideout was decimated, the ground and forest torn to shreds. Itachi paused, trying to do a head count of the opponents left behind.

Konan, Pein, Hidan were all accounted for, dead or incapacitated. He didn’t know how Shisui was fairing. Obito had run away – Itachi needed to find him, quickly. Anko, Gai and Tenzou were still fighting, and now Kakashi had stepped in at Gai’s side, falling seamlessly into his rhythm.

Itachi leapt to Anko’s side, kunai drawn to deflect a barrage of assumingly poison-coated senbon. She was out of breath. “This guy has a never-ending supply of puppets, it would seem.”

“Then let’s end it.” Itachi spun around to knock a puppet aside as it sprang towards his throat. Together, they managed to gain some distance between themselves and Sasori, and Itachi could feel Kakashi and Gai close by.

Tenzou dropped in between them, gasping for air, clearly reaching exhaustion.

“That’s _it_!” Itachi was alerted to the utterly incensed sounding shout above him. Deidara had been the most vocal throughout the entire fight, but it sounded now like he had reached the peak of his anger. “I’ll blow you all to hell with my ultimate technique, un!”

Tenzou hesitated, obviously weighing up his options. Deidara was flashing furiously through seals. Itachi checked the position of his team – all were close by, except for Shisui. Would he have time -

“Deidara, no!” Sasori roared. “You’ll kill us all!”

That was all Itachi needed to hear.

He didn’t have long to form a plan. He made a snap decision, Sharingan swirling into Mangekyou form, and he focused, hard. He didn’t know if he had enough chakra to divide between two major techniques, but there wasn’t time to think about it, and there wasn’t time to signal Shisui closer to help.

He needed two seconds. His eyes snapped up to Deidara, and he threw his genjutsu with all the urgency he could. The blond bomber was frozen in place, and had only a moment to register that in complete shock. Itachi kept his hold, keeping Deidara frozen still, and at the same time focused on summoning the strength to envelope his nearby teammates within the red flamed walls of his Susanoo.

The technique was impenetrable; his team safe inside, and his steel grip on Deidara didn’t even falter. Before the remaining Akatsuki could flee to a safe distance, Itachi set off Deidara’s attack prematurely. He needed just a thought, and then the entire forest around them ripped up in a huge explosion. It battered against his shield, he could feel it thrumming around Susanoo, but not breaking through. He kept his hold, absolutely determined to keep his team safe.

By the time the dust cleared, they were surrounded by torn up earth and shredded trees, huge boulders scattered.  He held the Susanoo a bit longer, in case something rose from the surrounding wreckage. Once he was satisfied it was safe, the hulking red shield dispersed, and Itachi let out a breath he forgot he had been holding.

The team stared at him.

“Why the fuck did you drag us all out here if you could do that?” Anko asked, stupefied.

His head was pounding. Not his brightest move, but he assumed it had got the job done relatively well – nothing seemed to be moving. He couldn’t tell just yet, his vision was swimming and hazy, but he felt Shisui flicker to his side.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

Where had he come from? “I’m fine.” He blinked his vision clear.

There was a large, red, raw looking graze down one of Shisui’s arms. It was oozing blood, slowly.

“What is that?”

“Ugh,” Shisui winced, shaking his arm slightly as though that might dislodge the massive wound. “That sword is very dangerous, I discovered. Aruku had forewarned me, though. We discussed the Seven Swordsmen when I was in Mist, so I knew what I was getting myself into.”

Tenzou and Gai were inspecting the surrounding area, searching for bodies to make a definitive call as to what targets had been dispatched. Kakashi was looking slightly shocked, lost in his own thoughts now that the danger had passed.

“You okay?” Shisui asked, nodding towards him.

“Yeah,” Kakashi breathed. “Strange finding out your former best friend is actually a psychotic terrorist brainwashed by someone who you thought was dead.”

“We need to find him,” Itachi said. “We need to stop him before he has a chance to resurrect Madara – if he hasn’t already.”

“He can’t have gone far.” Shisui looked around.

“Finish up here,” Itachi told Kakashi. “Shisui and I will split up and search.”

“Got it.” Kakashi nodded sagely.

“Go north, I’ll head south,” Itachi told Shisui. “Call me if you see him. You’re no match for him alone.”

“Neither are you,” Shisui pointed out.

“You’ll have my back.” Itachi sounded sure. “No one could get to me faster than you, if I need help.”

“That’s true.” Shisui grinned. He was scuffed with dirt, but relatively unharmed, and that alone made Itachi feel better. He didn’t need to worry anxiously over his team – they were all standing and still in fighting condition.

He and Shisui split off, taking swiftly to the trees. This was why he wanted Hyuuga Neji with him. If they couldn’t track Obito down in a few minutes, he would return and get Kakashi and his dogs to try.

Itachi had not gone far when he noticed a movement amongst the forest.

Itachi could see Obito moving through the trees, not as fast as he should be. He was obviously feeling the effects of Itachi’s Tsukiyomi. He was approaching a rocky cliff face, filled with twisting paths and a thousand places to hide. Itachi wanted to cut him off, get him cornered. He changed trajectories to follow, flaring his chakra for Shisui.

He was closing in, narrowing the distance between them, and was suddenly flying sideways from a hard, unexpected hit to his side. For a moment he was falling out of control, taken completely by surprise, then he managed to twist his body around, trying to cushion his landing. He skidded to a halt on the rocky ground, eyes snapping up to see what on earth hit him.

Madara stood just metres away – his authority and power felt almost tangible.

Itachi took his eyes off him for just a second, to track Obito as he vanished over the cliff.

Well, that answered his question as to whether or not Obito had resurrected Madara yet. He concentrated on breathing; Madara’s hit to the chest had been powerful, and Itachi felt his breath stutter slightly under the strain.

Madara took several steps closer. He radiated power, supremacy and utter fury.

“You’ve destroyed my army,” he snarled. Itachi could feel his chakra ripple in ire, and it almost made him shudder – his power was massive. Itachi was hopelessly out of his depth, and everything was aching. His chest hurt, and his arm hurt, and his eyes were blurry and throbbing.

“Small army,” Itachi replied. Did he even stand a chance? “Wouldn’t have done much.”

“I will destroy your whole world!” Anger was rising. Anger and passion, and Itachi hesitated.

There was a tremor through his left arm, and quick reminder that he didn’t have the strength to take this man on alone, if at all. There was no way he was strong enough alone. He threw up three small genjutsu in rapid succession, each one broken apart instantly. He needed something bigger. Something more effective.

He stepped back, wanting to gain distance. There wasn’t anywhere to go; they were on the top of a rocky outcropping. He stood his ground, right hand flying back to grasp the hilt of his sword.

“Just wait, Itachi. I’ll take everything important to you. Your friends, your family, your _brother_ ,” Madara spat the word with surprisingly force and passion. “Your team mates, your village. Nothing will be safe.”

“Everything will be safe,” Itachi responded darkly. “I’ll protect it.” _And don’t touch my brother!_

“Not this time. This time, there will be no mercy. You’ve crossed the line now, and the entire world will pay for it. I will tear you apart, limb from limb,” Madara snarled, closing the distance between them.

Itachi tried to clench his left fist; it wouldn’t respond. Madara was too close. His sword was half drawn when the world suddenly blurred in front of him, he heard wind rush around him, and then he was no longer in front of Madara, but a safe distance away.

“Need a hand?” Shisui asked under his breath, eyes on Madara.

The man was twisting around to find them. Itachi thought Shisui should have flickered them further away.

“Need a distraction. If I can just lock him into a genjutsu . . .” Itachi took in a deep breath. “We need to finish this now. I need him to look at me.”

“Got it.” Shisui sprang away as Madara hurled a series of kunai towards them. He flicked through several hand seals, and released a fireball, enveloping the space Madara had occupied. Shisui knew he would dodge; he was ready, blurring out of sight.

“Itachi, now!” Shisui yelled, flickering into position behind Madara. The masked man looked over his shoulder, exactly as he should, and Shisui waited for one heart beat for the genjutsu to take effect, or at least for Madara to pause to break it.

It never happened. Madara moved as though Itachi wasn’t even there, taking advantage of Shisui’s sudden closeness to turn on his heel and slam a fist into the side of Shisui’s head. A direct hit, further strengthened by an outpouring of chakra, and suddenly Shisui found himself face first on the ground, a shooting pain in his skull.

Before he could gather his wits, Madara was gone in a swirl. Shisui sat up, spitting out a mouthful of dirt and blood, feeling dizzy. “What . . . just happened?”

Itachi was standing deathly still, looking like a deer in headlights, with the strange expression he got when he knew he’d screwed something up beyond saving. It didn’t happen often, but it had happened now.

“What happened?” Shisui demanded, rising to his feet, feeling irrationally angry at their target not only escaping, but also at being hit in the head and rammed into the ground. “You were supposed to do it when I made him turn, why didn’t you?”

“I missed.” His voice was paper thin, still staring frozen into the distance.

“You _missed_?” Shisui repeated incredulously. “How can you _miss_? It’s a genjutsu, all you had to do was look him in the eye. How can you miss at _looking at someone_?”

“I . . .” his voice shook slightly, he was terribly unused to failure and it made his stomach churn. “I couldn’t see him . . .”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? You just look him in the eye, Itachi, it’s basic knowledge, are you fucking _blind_?”

He flinched, and Shisui noticed.

“Oh, come on,” Shisui groaned, slapping a hand across his face despairingly, still irate. “What the hell, Itachi, what the _flying_ fuck? Are you going blind as well? Is there anything else you want to tell me? Any other massive, debilitating, life threatening conditions to disclose? You have my full attention since our _target escaped_.”

Itachi turned away, remaining silent. He began picking his way back to the rest of the team, only to be stopped by a viciously hurled kunai. He glanced back at Shisui, wary.

“How long?” Shisui asked darkly. “How long have you been doing missions without even being able to see what you’re doing? How long have you been working _blind_ in the most dangerous job in the world? How long ago did you decide your life didn’t matter anymore, and how long have you been keeping secrets from me?”

He said nothing.

“When did you stop caring what happened to you? _Every_ mission is a suicide mission if you can’t even see what’s happening. I need to know, because last time I checked you cared. You cared about me. About what I thought. When did you stop doing that?”

“Don’t,” Itachi snapped. “Don’t even say that. You know it’s not true.”

“Isn’t it? Then why has there been nothing between us for months? Why have you been pushing me away? Why have you been ignoring me? Why have you kept everything from me?”

“Because I’m going to die and I didn’t want you to have to die with me,” Itachi snarled, turning around, eyes blazing red. “I’m going to _die_ – there is no changing that. And the closer we are, the more it hurts you. I didn’t want you to follow me down that road, I didn’t want you to watch me suffer, because I knew you would suffer too. If you didn’t know, and you didn’t care, then it was easier. I don’t want your sympathy, I don’t want your help, because it’s going to hurt you. And that’s the one thing I can’t take.”

Shisui just stared at him.

“I don’t care how much the world hurts me, I don’t care how much it takes from me, but I don’t want it to drag you down as well.”

Itachi’s eyes faded to black, and he turned away again. In a few lithe leaps, he was down from the rocky outcrop, moving swiftly towards the rest of the team. Shisui did not follow immediately. He stayed still, uncertain, with Itachi’s words churning through his mind.

 

They stopped when night fell, setting up camp. Itachi was not hurrying them, content to let the pace be easy. Kakashi was still rattled, and Itachi didn’t want to push him. The others were weary, and injured. They would be home in Konoha in a few days.

Once they had a fire going, and had settled around it, he moved away, further into the dark night, to take up perch in a large tree and keep watch on the stillness around them.

It was not long before Shisui came after him, jumping up onto the same branch. He listened to the silence of the night for a few minutes.

“Sorry I yelled at you,” Shisui said, edging a little closer.

“It’s alright. I deserved it.” Itachi did not look at him.

Shisui didn’t have anything to say to that. He wanted to deny it, but part of him agreed. And part of him was still angry – mostly angry at not being told. “Why didn’t you tell me about your eyes?”

“Because I can handle it. There was no need to worry you.”

Shisui shot Itachi a look, anger visible, and it was impossible to misinterpret – _You don’t keep secrets from me_. “How bad is it?”

Itachi lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “It comes and goes. It’s worse after using Mangekyou.”

The slight rasp in his breathing was back. Barely noticeable, but Shisui knew exactly what it sounded like by now. He heard it when Itachi slept after a tiring mission. It was his only indicator that something was wrong – that Itachi was not getting better.

Missions were numbered. Years were numbered. Time was running out, and Itachi was not going to stop. With the pressure of a failing body, he was going to work harder. Shisui didn’t know what to think about that. Because behind the flicker of pride that Itachi was so dedicated, so determined, so willing, was abject terror that he would push himself too far.

“Tell me,” Shisui said. “If I can help. If I can do anything. This changes nothing between us. I still love you. Always will. I’ll still follow you, through hell and back. Just . . .” He trailed off. “Please, Itachi, be careful.”

Itachi glanced at him.

“I know I ask a lot of you, but I need to ask one thing more.”

Itachi waited.

“Please . . . don’t go where I can’t follow.”


	32. 31 - Panda Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on holiday! Time for lots of writing. To get happily into my holiday spirit, here is a chapter of absolute nonsense.

Shisui didn’t know why he woke up in the middle of the night. Maybe it was because he and Itachi weren’t lying directly next to each other, like they did every night. Whatever it was, he sat up slowly, assessing the camp site.

Kakashi was keeping watch; Shisui could see him sitting by the fire. But he wasn’t alone.

It was Itachi sitting beside him, and they were talking in low voices. Shisui lay down again, as quiet as possible, and tried to listen.

“I can change his mind,” Kakashi said.

“And if you can’t?” Itachi murmured. “Then what? What will you do if you cannot bring him back from whatever dark place Madara has sent him to?”

There was a slightly shuddering sigh from Kakashi. “Then . . . I will give him the peaceful death he never had.”

“It’ll be hard.” Itachi spoke gently. “You won’t want to do it.”

“We’re shinobi,” Kakashi said, somewhat rueful. “We do a lot of things we don’t want to. I just . . . he was like family to me. It’s hard to believe he would ever be anything else.”

Itachi stayed quiet. Maybe this was why his family, his clan, had always been viewed with such distrust. It seemed a predominant trait amongst Uchihas to go wildly off the rails – Madara, and Obito, and even Sasuke. “It wouldn’t feel right asking you to kill a friend.”

“Then make this the last time,” Kakashi sent Itachi a sideways glance. “Your world of peace. Should make things like this unnecessary.”

“I need help to get there,” Itachi said. “It’s not something I can do on my own.”

“Well,” Kakashi leant his weight back on his palms, looking up at the dappled night sky through dark leaves. “You followed my command pretty well for two years. I think I can follow you.” He turned his attention back to the fire, prodding it once or twice. “You should get some sleep.”

Itachi did not leave immediately. He watched the flickering flames in silence for a few minutes, before getting wordlessly to his feet and wandering off. He did not go back to sleep.

Shisui tracked him as he left the camp, moving deeper into the forest. After a few minutes, Shisui got up to follow him, ignoring Kakashi’s somewhat indignant protest, “Why am I up keeping watch if no one is bothering to sleep?”

Finding Itachi was difficult. He had moved further away than Shisui would have expected – why? What was he trying to hide? The answer became clearer once he caught up, finding Itachi bracing one hand against a tree while he coughed over and over into his other hand.

Shisui stayed at a distance, waiting until Itachi finished. He was counting up the number of times he had seen this happen, and it felt like far too many already. “You okay?”

“That’s a difficult question to answer,” Itachi replied. He took a few very deep, cautious breaths.

Shisui came closer.

Itachi rifled through his weapons’ pouch, pulling out several little containers. He shook each one, listening to the sound, and Shisui watched quietly.

“You can’t see what they are, can you?”

“It’s dark, Shisui.” Itachi sounded exhausted, as though preparing for yet another argument. Deftly, he selected the pills he needed.

“Can you read them in the light?”

“Yes.”

Shisui stayed quiet while Itachi swallowed the pills down, but he spoke again once Itachi was standing still and just focusing on breathing. “You shouldn’t have been on this mission.”

“If I hadn’t been on it, we would have lost the whole team.” Itachi looked at him. “This is my final S-ranked mission for now. Until things improve.”

“Will they ever improve, if you keep pushing yourself like this?” Shisui questioned, barely containing the fury in his tone.

Itachi’s stare was hard. “I have something I need to attain.”

“And you can’t attain anything if you’re dead.”

Itachi looked away. “I know what I can handle.”

He was about to turn away when Shisui stopped him with a hand laid gently on his shoulder. It didn’t seem like the type of gesture to start an argument, but Itachi was still wary. Lately, it seemed every conversation ended with some sort of disagreement.

“You’re not alone.” Shisui said seriously. It didn’t matter how angry he was, how bitter, or how frustrated, he wanted Itachi to know this; “I’m always right here. Okay? So if you need something, anything, and you can’t handle it – I know, I know, you can handle everything, _but_ – I’m here. I’ll pick up the slack. I’ll be whatever you need.”

Itachi’s smile was soft and warm. He knew he wasn’t completely forgiven, but it was encouraging to know that Shisui still felt the same. “You’re already everything I need.”

 

Two days later, safely home in Konoha, Shisui announced they were having a special dinner.

“We never go out on dates.”

“That’s because we’re not dating.”

“Ouch,” Shisui grinned. “What do you call this, then? How would you classify our relationship?” He waited patiently for Itachi to mull it over.

“It’s a partnership. More an engagement, really, in a manner of speaking,” Itachi concluded. “A mutual dependency on one another. With an emotional connection.”

“So, dating,” Shisui summarised. “Whatever you decide to call it, we’re having a nice time tonight. It was a tough mission, and we had an argument – like, three in the last week -, and we need some ‘us’ time.”

“Alright,” Itachi agreed, sounding rather dismissive.

“Sound a bit more excited.”

“Yay. Dinner. Like we have every night,” Itachi deadpanned.

Shisui grinned. “I’ll make it special.”

It turned out Shisui was not an expert on romance – neither of them were, although Shisui liked to think he was – but he did go through the trouble of finding a candle to put on the kitchen table. Itachi was working in his study, quietly moving through the accumulated mission reports from his Anbu while he was away, and Shisui wondered if he should move the lily as well. Maybe it would add to the romance if it were on the table.

Or better yet, on fire. He was eying it, and before he could even attempt to reach towards it, Itachi’s voice carried from the other room. “Touch it and you die.”

So, no lily then. Shisui stuck his tongue out in the general direction of Itachi’s study. “You’re spoiling the romance.”

“One candle is hardly the answer to that, and leave my lily alone.”

“I wasn’t going to hurt it.”

“I don’t trust you with it.”

Shisui rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll leave it alone. Stupid plant.” He made a face at it. Shockingly, the lily did not respond. With a few quick hand seals, Shisui lit the candle. “Stop working for ten minutes and come and eat!”

Shisui sat down with a thump, drumming his fingers on the table until Itachi entered the kitchen.

“Ah, very romantic,” Itachi said dryly. “Take out ramen.”

“I didn’t have to time to cook, and you complain whenever I do.”

“It’s fine,” Itachi sat opposite him with a soft smile. “It’s the thought that counts.”

“Everyone knows that’s not true, but I’ll take the compliment anyway. Look,” Shisui held up his glass. “I skipped the champagne because I know you don’t like it, and bought the ever-thrilling bubbly apple juice.”

“Well aren’t you sweet.”

“Yes, I am,” Shisui replied smugly. He gave Itachi about two minutes of peace before adding, “A celebration is called for.”

Itachi looked at him. “I thought that’s what this was.”

“No, we need a proper one. A party.” At Itachi’s expressionless face, Shisui added, “It’ll be fun. When was the last time you hung out with someone who wasn’t me?”

“Izumi and I went out for lunch today once we got home.” Itachi replied quietly.

“Huh.” Shisui paused. He hadn’t expected that. “Bad example then. But the fact is, we need some down time. I’ll organise it, you don’t need to worry. When are you free next?”

“Next year,” Itachi said flatly. “I’m not stupid, Shisui. I’m not giving you any indicators of when I’m free.”

“But I have a plan.”

Itachi sighed. “Do tell?”

“You know how I can make genjutsu that can change people’s thoughts?” Shisui had barely finished the sentence before Itachi snapped his eyes shut, drawing back.

“Don’t you dare!”

“Aw, Itachi, love,” Shisui leaned over the table to press their foreheads together. Itachi kept his eyes scrunched closed. “I cast it last night.” He pressed a gentle kiss to Itachi’s lips, and asked sweetly, “So, when are you free?”

With another defeated sigh, Itachi opened his eyes. “Tomorrow night.”

 

“Hey, Panda,” Kakashi greeted cheerily, clearly feeling much better, and strolling into Itachi’s office. Itachi needed to put a lock on that door. “Shisui told me we’re having a ‘Friend Night’ – that’s a direct quote – because – and this is another direct quote – ‘Itachi needs to relax for once because he’s so tense I want to set his office on fire so he can’t work anymore and he can just chill the fuck out’.”

“What did you just call me?” Itachi blinked.

“He also told me I have to ask you what he should make for supper because apparently you get all uppity about him using stuff you ‘planned’ to use later.”

“Did you just call me a panda?”

“He said you need to work on being spontaneous, and figured a ‘friend night’ was a good start.”

“Shisui called me a panda, didn’t he?” Itachi said flatly. “Am I to assume he is advertising the frequency of our sexual intercourse to everyone?”

“Only to me,” Kakashi reassured him.

“I’m going to kill him.”

“Drinks first,” Kakashi said cheerily. “We’re going to get thoroughly drunk, so please don’t be alarmed.”

“Who’s ‘we’?” Itachi queried, somewhat suspicious now. ‘We’ seemed to imply more than just Kakashi. Itachi didn’t think he was ready for Shisui’s interpretation of a ‘party’.

“The team, of course,” Kakashi replied nonchalantly. “All six of us.”

 

Five drunk shinobi proved to be incredibly loud.

Itachi had left the couch at around the time the shots were brought out, leaving the others crowded around the coffee table, mostly sitting upright, to make himself some tea in his ‘Mini Captain’ mug, and pretend he didn’t have a house full of ninja too drunk to remember their own names.

He didn’t leave the house completely, although it did occur to him, and instead returned to the lounge with his tea and his sword, intending to give it a good polish and supervise whatever shenanigans were going on in his house.

It turned out the topics were getting a bit risqué for his liking. They had started out innocently enough, with questions about training dares, and comparing who had taken the greatest risks on missions, and most embarrassing stories, but the last few turns had been distinctly for the uncouth.

“Have you ever slept with a target on an assassination mission?” Shisui asked, frowning at his shot. “Seems like a bad idea, but if you’re going to kill them anyway, it wouldn’t matter, right?”

“Done it,” Anko shrugged. “Couple of years ago. It was pretty fun, actually. I knew I was going to kill him in the morning, so it didn’t matter what we did, he wasn’t going to judge me. Not for long, anyway.”

“I never did that, but I did go streaking on a bet once,” Kakashi added.

Gai nodded. “Me too.”

“We both thought the other one was supposed to be doing the streaking. Figured it out when we ran into each other. Literally.”

“Any interesting stories from you?” Tenzou asked, looking at Shisui. “Or are you still too young to have any fun stories?”

“I have fun,” Shisui defended himself.

“We’re probably the most fun people in Konoha,” Anko said, and Itachi thought that was thoroughly inaccurate. “So unless you’ve fucked someone in this room, you probably haven’t done anything fun.”

“Ha!” Shisui yelled triumphantly. He pumped both fists in the air. “I have! Jokes on you.” He looked positively gleeful, reaching to refill his shot glass, but was interrupted mid-stretch by Anko.

“Hold on a minute,” she said. “What? _Who_?”

“What?” Shisui asked, blinking at her.

“I know for sure you haven’t fucked me,” she said. “And you don’t count. There’s no way you’ve slept with Kakashi, or Gai, or Tenzou. That’s everyone in the room.”

“Is it though?” Shisui asked smartly, looking immensely smug.

Anko paused. The entire table paused, except Kakashi who was stacking shot glasses into a tower, wholly un-phased. After the collective pause, every head suddenly turned at once to the far corner, where Itachi had been sitting in total silence, sipping his tea and polishing his sword.

He lifted his head when he felt all eyes on him, sending a questioning look at the table of drunk shinobi.

“You’ve been fucking Mini Captain,” Anko said flatly. _And there went that secret_ , Itachi thought morosely.

“You didn’t know that?” Kakashi said mildly. “I assumed it was common knowledge by now.”

“I _knew_ it!” Tenzou exclaimed. “Ibiki said I was crazy!”

“Another round!” Gai announced. “For the spirit of youth!”

“And for Shisui being crazy enough to wrangle Itachi in bed,” Kakashi added calmly.

“It’s not hard,” Shisui said. From the other side of the room, Itachi’s eyebrow quirked up. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to interpret that.

There was a blissful lull in conversation as they all had another round of drinks, and Itachi relaxed a fraction, satisfied that the awkward exchange would be over, and they would move on to different nonsense. He could hear Gai humming loudly.

Itachi had tuned out of the conversation, wiping the blade of his sword down with well-practiced movements, when he was alerted back into the fray by a loud, collective guffaw of laughter from everyone present.

He wondered vaguely how much alcohol had been consumed per ninja. He assumed it was a rather high number.

“Itachi, come here,” Shisui shouted. “Tell them how you’re great in bed – he is, really, he isn’t as strict as you’d think and there’s no paperwork – he’s mean though - Itachi!”

Itachi didn’t think he’d ever had a stronger urge to smash his face into a wall. He pursed his lips, keeping silent in the hopes Shisui would change topics if ignored, and kept his eyes very firmly on the shining blade of his sword.

_Patience_ , he reminded himself. They were all highly inebriated, the odds of them remembering any of this was quite slim. He was holding onto that fact. Itachi, on the other hand, would probably never forget the entire ill-fated night.

“Wait!” Shisui yelled, as though interrupting someone. He held up a hand, and declared solemnly, “I’ll show you instead.”

And that made Itachi panic, his heart almost jumping into his throat. _What?_ He eyed Shisui guardedly, wondering what was going through Shisui’s incredibly sloshed mind.

“Look, look, look,” Shisui repeated inanely, getting up and trying his best to march across the room. “Watch. Watch.”

His audience shuffled around obligingly, blinking slowly at Itachi.

“Fluffy,” Shisui began – and Itachi had no idea where that nickname had come from, but if it was ever uttered again he was going to _kill_ someone – “You love me right?”

“It’s highly debatable.”

“No, no,” Shisui didn’t look at all offended. “Not like that. Like _this_.”

Itachi was saved from whatever amazingly sober display Shisui’s brain had come up with by the older Uchiha face-planting himself on the floor, and a loud, enthusiastic cheer from the other shinobi watching.

“Another round!” Gai shouted jovially.

“No,” Itachi said, standing up and stepping over Shisui. “I think that’s quite enough.”

“I could get drunker,” Kakashi said.

“Then you can do that somewhere else,” Itachi said firmly. “Get out, and go continue your madness anywhere that isn’t my house. And ‘drunker’ isn’t a word.”

“Boss is angry,” Anko whispered loudly. “Paperwork for everyone!”

“I didn’t do anything!” Tenzou wailed. Itachi had no idea his voice could get that high pitched. “Why am I being punished?”

Itachi’s thoroughly inebriated guests chuckled amongst themselves. _Patience_ , he reminded himself. Patience, and possibly a memory wiping jutsu. He bodily hauled them all to their feet and ushered them towards the door.

“Can I take the sake?” Kakashi asked.

“Yes.” Itachi handed it over. “Now, get out.”

“Don’t tell Itachi we were here,” Anko whispered.

_Patience_. He slapped a hand over his face. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Good night, Panda,” Kakashi said. Itachi didn’t know if he was truly the soberest amongst them, or so well practiced in being drunk that he could fake it the best.

“Is it?” Itachi sighed, herding them out the door, without any protest, luckily.

“Night night, Uchiha,” Anko said, and Itachi just nodded.

Gai saluted sharply, whacking himself in the head, and Tenzou paused, looking dazed and confused.

“Go home,” Itachi told him.

“Wood working,” he replied with astonishing confidence considering he was talking absolute nonsense.

It was with no small sense of relief that Itachi closed the door, and turned back into the house.

Shisui was sitting up, looking around. “Where did everyone go?”

Without answering, Itachi hauled Shisui to his feet, with one of his arms over his shoulders. Shisui did not helpfully walk, but rather sagged like a dead weight. Itachi nearly dropped him.

“I love you soooo much,” Shisui said, hanging off Itachi. “So, so much, you know?”

“I didn’t agree to this,” Itachi muttered to himself, practically dragging Shisui through the house. “I am a victim here.”

“You’re so pretty.”

“You’re so drunk.”

“You know why I like you?” Shisui said, smiling happily, as Itachi dumped him on the bed. “Because pandas are cute. And you’re cute. And fluffy.”

Itachi closed his eyes briefly and gathered his patience again. He spoke in a carefully measured voice, “I’m going to sleep in another room. Do not drown yourself in the toilet.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Shisui flailed dramatically, like an upended turtle. “You can’t leave. The bamboo is still growing.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“Look,” Shisui rolled over, and promptly fell off the bed onto his face. He continued undeterred, speaking into the floor. “Parsnips are bananas.”

Itachi’s carefully gathered patience fled. “Shisui, I am leaving now. I will repeat this in the morning, but if any part of your very saturated brain is listening, please try to retain this: I am never dealing with you drunk again.”

Shisui heaved a loud sigh into the wooden floor boards. “But the _caterpillars_ , Itachi.”

There was nothing but silence from the room.

“Itachi?”

Shisui sighed again.

From the other side of the house, there was the sound of a door slamming.


	33. 32 - Conflict Resolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boys will be boys, going about their nonsense in very mature ways.

Itachi considered slamming a lot of doors the next morning. Maybe picking up the kitchen table and dropping it a few times. Or acquiring a pneumatic drill and using it on Shisui’s thick skull. Or sticking two pieces of dynamite in Shisui’s ears and using Katon on his face.

But he didn’t, because he was Shisui’s saint in human form, somehow remaining silent as Shisui dragged himself into the kitchen, hair even more tangled and out of control than usual, with his shirt on backwards and a dazed, confused look in his eyes.

Itachi slammed a glass of water in front of him, barely registering as Shisui flinched.

“You seem tense,” Shisui remarked, drinking the glass down in several deep gulps.

“You seem like a total idiot.” And, oh, it wasn’t often Itachi lost his temper, and even rarer for him to fire colloquial, verbal barbs.

It occurred to Shisui that he should be worried. “Did I do anything . . .?”

“How much did you drink last night?” Itachi snapped. “I’ve dragged your sorry arse home more than once, and you’ve never been quite as . . . forthcoming.”

“They say the truth comes out when you’re drunk,” Shisui contemplated. “Why? Did I tell everyone how much I love you?”

“No,” Itachi seethed. “But you did volunteer to show them.”

“Huh.” Shisui paused, digesting this information. “That does kind of sound like me.”

“You have a mission soon as well, so you should probably turn your shirt the right way around.”

“I don’t . . .” Shisui blinked. “Wait, I don’t have a mission today. That’s why we had Friend Night last night, because none of us were working the next d-“

“You have one now,” Itachi snapped, and Shisui snapped his jaw shut at Itachi’s tone.

After careful consideration, Shisui asked cautiously, “On who’s authority?”

“Mine.”

Oh. “Oh . . .” This was punishment, wasn’t it? Itachi was not often violent, and seemed to have an unending supply of patience, which Shisui had a feeling had just ended. “Um . . . Can I appeal to have it moved?”

“You’d need a council member for that. And I’m the only one available at the moment.”

“Can I decline the mission?”

Itachi’s dark eyes drilled into Shisui’s. “You could. But I would suspend you. And a disciplinary remark would be added to your record.”

Itachi had him neatly boxed into a corner. Shisui gulped. “Okay . . . So . . . what do you need me to do?”

“I have a few new techniques I need to try out. I want you to be there.”

“So it’s not actually a mission? It’s just training?” That didn’t seem so bad.

“No, it’s a mission.” Itachi slapped the paperwork on the table in front of him. Shisui nearly leapt out of his skin at the sudden movement. “Do _not_ fail it.”

“. . . It’s punishment, not a mission.”

“It’s a mission. It’s been officially documented. I will expect a report.”

“. . . . . . You . . . ‘officially documented’ what is effectively you punishing me for drinking? Isn’t that . . . a blatant abuse of power?”

“What are you going to do about it?” Itachi challenged.

“N-nothing.”

“I thought so.” Itachi finally backed off. “You should get ready.”

“What time are we starting?” Shisui ventured carefully.

Itachi glanced at the clock across the kitchen. He studied it for a moment, before saying flatly, “I can’t read the clock from here. How does ‘now’ sound?”

There didn’t seem to be any room for argument.

“I’ll get ready,” Shisui said, figuring agreeing would be the best way to avoid being gutted.

 

Itachi led Shisui and his double vision to the Uchiha training grounds. The sheer anticipation was making Shisui feel more nauseous than any drinking had ever done, and he stood guardedly in the clearing while Itachi took a moment to look around and probably see if there were any witnesses to Shisui’s humiliation.

When he was satisfied, Itachi backed off to a suitable distance, and without warning was flashing through several hand seals.

“Um . . . that looks rather like Kakashi’s chidori,” Shisui said nervously, muscles tensing. “I feel like we need to go over some basic safety rules because – shit, fuck, Itachi, _no_!”

He flickered away, reappearing several metres to the left. Before he had time to breathe, Itachi was right in front of him, lightning blue chakra flying at his face. Shisui flickered away once again, and the tree that had been behind him shattered into splinters from the force of Itachi’s attack.

“Could you just give me a minute-“

There were shuriken flying at him, and they were on fire – _Hell_ , Shisui thought, _is he trying to kill me?_

He was gone in an instant, and he didn’t know how Itachi knew but the exact spot he reappeared in was already surrounded by shadow clones, and Shisui didn’t even have time to breathe before he needed to flicker away again to avoid being slashed to ribbons by a dozen swords.

“Time out, time out!”

He yelped as a well-aimed Katon brushed a bit too close, the heat licking at his legs. He didn’t dare stop moving, blurring his way throughout the clearing in the most erratic pattern he could think of. Kunai seemed to be flying at him from every direction, and he had no idea how Itachi was moving that fast, or staying one step ahead of him.

“Itachi, stop! You’re going to kill me!”

The fact that he had received no answer so far, and no respite from the barrage of attacks, made him think that was the wrong thing to say. He heard the unsettling crackling of another chidori and jumped aside just in time to have it sail past his face. A few stray blue streaks whipped against his cheek, raising thin red welts.

He was about to flip backwards to gain some distance when Itachi very helpfully threw a kick at his stomach that sent him propelling through the air. He managed to flip around, preparing to land, only to have Itachi suddenly appear above him, and smash an elbow into the side of his head, changing his trajectory to face first onto the ground.

In a moment of panic, Shisui flickered from his newly acquired horizontal position, blurring to the trees.

“I’m sorry!” he yelped, ducking a barrage of shuriken. He dived to the next tree. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry I’m an arse when I drink! I’m sorry I’m such a tool all the time! I’m sorry I tried to solicit you for sex in front of everyone, but please don’t kill me!”

There was a second of silence, with Shisui pressed flat against a tree as though he could hide in its bark, then he felt cold steel against his throat. He stayed perfectly still, chest heaving, and when he swallowed down his apprehension the blade of Itachi’s sword pressed a bit too hard against delicate skin.

He slid his eyes to the left, to see Itachi looking at him with one eyebrow raised and the most unimpressed look on his face Shisui had ever seen.

“I’m sorry,” he squeaked. “It won’t happen again. And if I ever get that drunk again you can do whatever you want to me, but please don’t kill me now.”

He held his breath as Itachi drew his sword back, keeping a wary eye on the younger shinobi as he slid it expertly into its sheath.

“You’re an idiot,” Itachi stated calmly.

Shisui nodded. “Yeah.”

Itachi started walking away, and after a moment of hesitation, Shisui followed, feeling rather like a scolded puppy.

They went home in utter silence, Shisui uncertain as to whether he should break it. He cleared his throat softly as Itachi went through the house, the sound making Itachi pause in the lounge to look back at Shisui.

“Itachi?”

“Hm?”

“Sorry. Are you . . . really mad at me about last night?”

“To be honest,” Itachi turned to face him. Shisui took a step back. “I’m more angry about you calling me a panda.”

“Yeah, well, I’m still kinda mad at you for not telling me you were sick and going blind. But we talked that out, and I think I’m over it. We’re even. And you’re a jerk.”

Itachi did not retaliate. Shisui was no longer angry; there was lingering irritation, but he had realised that being angry with Itachi was pointless. Itachi would always be Itachi – misguided occasionally in his attempt to spare the rest of the world his problems. Shisui knew everything now, and that meant he had no reason to be angry anymore. Now, he could move his focus onto more important things.

The first of which, since Itachi was still looking at him dryly, was teasing.

“In all fairness to me, Panda,” Shisui said. Itachi twitched slightly. “I didn’t know you were sick at the time, and the comparison just seemed . . . accurate . . .” He paused, wondering if his life would be in danger if he said what he was thinking. He decided to chance it. “You could just let me fuck you now, and I can let Kakashi know I was wrong.”

“You are _severely_ pushing it,” Itachi said, eyes narrowed.

Shisui chanced a few steps closer. When Itachi didn’t immediately punch him in the face, he reached a cautious hand up to unsnap Itachi’s sword from his back. “Yeah, well, as you said.” He kissed him softly. “I’m an idiot.”

He was pleased when Itachi kissed him back, feeling immensely relieved that he was pretty much forgiven already. He was still cautious though, as he encouraged Itachi backwards towards the couch, in case the younger decided he was still irritated enough to lash out.

“Remind me,” Shisui said, pressing Itachi down onto his back and holding him still with his body. “Never to get you pissed off again.”

“You’ll never manage that.” Itachi smiled fondly at him, hands tangling into his hair.

“Well, I’ll try.” He peppered kisses on Itachi’s neck, earning a contented sigh.

Itachi relaxed under Shisui for a few moments, enjoying the attention, then he shifted slightly, trying to ease into a more comfortable position – his chest felt slightly tight. He coaxed Shisui’s head up for another gentle kiss, and shifted again. He couldn’t stop two short coughs that came in quick succession; but he was willing to ignore them.

Shisui, it turned out, was not.

“ _Ah_!” It was the girliest shriek Itachi had ever heard from Shisui – and he had heard a lot of odd noises from the older boy – and in the next instant Itachi was lying alone on the couch blinking at the ceiling while Shisui darted away.

“Ew, ew, ew, gross, Itachi, _why_?” Through Shisui’s weird wailing noises there was the sound of rustling fabric as Shisui flung his shirt to the far corners of the room.

Itachi sat up, sending a questioning look at his cousin’s bizarre antics. Shisui was wiping frantically at his mouth, his behaviour not unlike if someone had dumped a bucket of tiny spiders on his head. “What is wrong with you?”

“With me? _With me_?” Shisui stopped to stare at Itachi. “It’s _you_!” He pointed an accusing finger.

“I’m not sure what you’re going on about; you seem to be over reacting.”

“Because there is a _line_ , Itachi, and you cross it when you projectile vomit blood onto your partner!”

“It was like two drops,” Itachi protested. His chest felt fine, so it couldn’t have been much. “You could hardly even notice.”

“I noticed!”

“You get covered in blood all the time, I don’t see why it’s such a big deal.”

“There are some things that are not okay, and throwing blood up onto your partner during sex is one of them.” Shisui shuddered.

“Are you sure? Because we seem considerably further along than we were a moment ago. You’re half undressed already.”

“Don’t get smart with me,” Shisui said. He was pouting, and Itachi had to look away to stop himself from smiling too much.

“Am I to assume we’re done here, then?” he asked instead. “Or are you going to come back and continue?”

“Not if you’re going to fire blood at me like a terrifying blood dragon!”

Itachi didn’t know what a blood dragon was. He chuckled softly, and his laughter only increased when Shisui levelled an indignant glare at him. “I’m sorry.” There was a spark of amusement in his eyes, though, and a complete lack of sincerity in the words. “Come here.”

Shisui stayed at a suitable distance. “I’d rather not.”

Itachi beckoned him with one hand. “Shisui, stop being pathetic. You’re not scared of blood, and you’ve seen me cough it up before.”

“But not _on_ me!” Reluctantly, Shisui returned, sitting cautiously down. He eyed Itachi. “You’re not going to coerce me into having creepy, unsettling, bloody sex, are you?”

“We’ll see what develops.” The smile and amusement were still present, so rare that Shisui couldn’t stay mad or disgusted for long.

He sighed. “The things I do for you.”

“You filled my house with drunk shinobi,” Itachi pointed out. “This probably makes us even.” He kissed Shisui gently.

With a shrug, Shisui kissed him back, harder, hands moving to Itachi’s shirt to yank him close. It was a short-lived endeavour though. Shisui pulled back. “Nope, not happening. You taste like blood.”

“Are you still on about that?”

“I can’t,” he grimaced. “I’m sorry, and I love you, but I am _not_ that kinky and this is so out of my comfort zone.”

Itachi sighed slightly. “You blow everything out of proportion.”

“Well, consider me suitably punished for ‘Friend Night’,” Shisui remarked. He was still pouting. It was doing unhealthy things to Itachi’s heart.

In an effort not to die of arrhythmia, something he had so far not considered to be an issue, Itachi hid his smile and wandered off into the kitchen to water his lily and try not to chuckle under his breath too much. Shisui followed him a moment later, fully dressed once more, and stood with his shoulder against the door frame, watching Itachi fuss with the plant.

They both heard someone coming, and Itachi glanced up as Izumi appeared outside the kitchen door, looking strangely flushed.

“Are you alright?” Itachi asked.

“Me? I’m fine.” Izumi shrugged. She stared at the lily.

Shisui raised an eyebrow, wondering what had brought her here.

“I just wondered if you had any plans for tonight?” Izumi asked suddenly. “I was going out to dinner with a friend, but she got called on a mission. So thought maybe you wanted to come with me instead.”

There was a badly muffled chortle from Shisui. Itachi sent him a look. Turning his head back to Izumi, he explained, “I’ve got a council meeting later tonight.”

“It doesn’t have to be tonight. We can do any night.”

The following snort was even louder.

“Shisui, get out,” Itachi snapped.

Shisui practically skipped out the room, breaking into helpless laughter further into the house. Izumi raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with him?”

“I have no idea,” Itachi said honestly. “He’s insane.”

“Runs in the family!” Shisui shouted from the depths of the house.

Itachi closed his eyes briefly, gathering his self-control. “I’m sorry. He’s impossible sometimes.”

“It’s fine.” Izumi shrugged. “How about tomorrow night?”

“I’ll check with Tsunade if I’m needed, but that sounds fine. I will let you know if it won’t work.”

“Great,” Izumi beamed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Itachi went to find Shisui once Izumi had left. Shisui was sitting on their bed as innocently as he could, but the moment he saw Itachi he exploded into snorts and giggles.

“What is wrong with you?” Itachi sighed.

“You know you’re going on a date, right? She’s been trying to ask you out for years.”

“We’re just friends,” Itachi answered mildly.

“When last did you tell her that?” Shisui grinned, wicked and toothy.

“Could you stop finding such amusement in my personal life?”

“I _am_ your personal life. I think I’m entitled to comment when you’re going on a date with someone.”

“It’s not a date.”

“It’s a date.” Shisui lay on his back, hands tucked behind his head and delighted grin still in place.

Itachi chose to ignore him, moving into the adjoining bathroom.

“Don’t get her pregnant!”

Itachi hurled the nearest object at Shisui with astonishing accuracy.

The resulting yelp of pain was very, very satisfying.


	34. 33 - Broken Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's enough fluff for a while. Back to the angsty plot.

Most meetings with Tsunade were cheerful affairs. She had grown used to Itachi’s ability to do everything perfectly, all the time, and so there was never any stress involved when speaking to him, because he had either done everything she needed, or would have it done at the soonest possible date.

So it was strange that she now refused to meet his eyes, or that a silence was lingering in the room while he waited patiently for her to speak.

“I don’t really want to say this,” she finally said, voice unusually subdued. “You’ve been nothing but perfect. Really, there’s no one else like you. So this is hard, but . . .” She looked at him, eyes apologetic. “I need to name someone as my successor to Hokage.”

“Yes?” He didn’t dare to hope. This had been in the back of his mind since he was very young. Tsunade was the only person who knew he wanted to be Hokage, because she had promised him. She had looked him in the eye, and told him the village would be his. A step along the path to peace, bringing him so, so close to his goal. He quivered slightly.

Tsunade took a deep breath. “It can’t be you.”

He stayed silent, feeling icy cold.

“It should be, and I want it to be, because no one will be as good as you. But it can’t be. I cannot put you in charge of this village when I know you’re going to die too soon.” She looked like the admission hurt. “I’m so sorry. I just can’t.”

“It’s fine,” he murmured, after a silence. He kept his eyes cast down. His chest ached again, so badly. “I understand.”

“I wish I could do something. I want to help you, but I don’t . . . I don’t know what to do. You’re not getting better, the way we had hoped, and . . .” When he didn’t answer, she tried again. “Itachi, please. I’m sorry. I know you wanted . . .”

“Are we done here?” he asked softly. “Can I go now?”

After a short pause, Tsunade nodded. “Yes. You can go.”

He stood up without a word, leaving her chambers silently.

He flickered home, feeling sick to his stomach. He didn’t want the end to come this way. He had wanted to fight it, as much as he could, but he had to admit how real it was now. There was no more hoping it would go away. There was no pretending it didn’t exist. There was no more denial.

He leant against the wall, head hanging.

_I wanted to . . . I wanted to be . . ._ Never before had a goal seemed so out of reach. And it wasn’t because it was impossible to achieve, it was because his body just couldn’t stand up to life anymore. It wasn’t because it was out of his reach, nothing ever was, it was solely because he was going to die, and he couldn’t protect a village if he was dead.

_I don’t want to die . . ._ He wanted to protect the Leaf. He had wanted it since before he became a ninja.

_I don’t want to leave the world . . ._ He wanted to watch it flourish. He wanted to watch his dream grow. He wanted to show Sasuke a world where fighting wasn’t needed.

He _wanted_ to be Hokage. And it made him sick that the only thing standing in his way was himself. He couldn’t overcome himself. He had always been an unstoppable force.

This was the first time it wasn’t working in his favour.

The pain in his chest was almost unbearable. His left arm felt slightly numb again, and he sank down the wall, sitting hunched over and trying to breathe. Everything hurt. Every heartbeat felt like a stab from the inside. His breath caught in his throat, cloyed and blocked, until it wrenched loose with a violent cough, blood flying from his mouth. He didn’t try to move, just sat against the wall with his left arm hanging, and blood dripping freely, and everything ached.

His vision swam slightly, and as it did the feeling of numbness in his left arm spread a bit more. He could feel his heart pounding, the rhythm faltering erratically, and it occurred to him that this wasn’t normal. He probably needed help.

_I’m not dying now_ , he thought grimly. _Not until Sasuke is safe again. Not until I have what I want._

He was mentally calculating the time, figuring out when Shisui would be home, wondering if he could flare his chakra enough to get Izumi’s attention from somewhere within the compound. His control was unsteady, though, the strange and dull beating of his heart interrupting his chakra flow, and he gave up trying to manipulate anything.

_Shisui . . . Come home . . ._

He tried to get up again, but his body wouldn’t listen. It felt like the world was holding him down, heavy and trapping, and no matter what he thought, he stayed still, with black edges clouding his vision, and a sharp pain in his chest.

_Shisui . . . please . . . I need you . . ._

 

Shisui was sitting in the setting sun on a rooftop, taking a brief moment before heading home to just relax and let his body rest. Missions were still frequent, but the newer shinobi graduating from the Academy were taking some of the pressure off, and since Itachi returned from his long and harrowing mission the smaller villages had been sending help when it was needed, and so things were not as strained as they had been previously.

Still, Shisui was enjoying a moment to himself, free from anything.

He was in no hurry to go home; Itachi had a meeting with Tsunade which usually went on for ages because they liked to talk – Tsunade was one of the few people who could get Itachi to chat idly – and he didn’t care much for sitting alone for ages in the house when there was sunshine and peace right outside.

He sighed, letting his eyes slide closed.

A thump interrupted his quiet time.

“Hey, Shisui.” The somewhat nervous voice of Sakura reached him. She sat beside him.

“Yeah?” He kept his eyes closed, focusing on the sun on his skin.

“I just . . . I was worried. About Itachi.”

“I’m worried about him, too.”

“No, I mean . . . right now . . .” Sakura seemed reluctant to talk. “You know he spoke to Tsunade-sama today?”

“Yes. I don’t know what it’s about.”

“No one does. But . . . he seemed upset when he left. I just saw him briefly.”

“Why are you telling me?” Shisui opened his eyes, finally looking at the girl.

She shrugged. “You know him well. I thought maybe you knew what they had spoken about. I guess it can’t be too bad, because you’d be with him if it was.”

“Itachi didn’t say anything to me.” Shisui said. “So he must be fine. I’ll go home soon, and check on him.”

Sakura sighed. “I hope he’s alright.”

“It’s Itachi,” Shisui sent her a crooked grin. “There’s nothing he can’t do.” He stretched leisurely. “So does that mean they’ve finished talking already? Usually they take ages discussing stuff.”

“It seemed like a very short meeting.” Sakura said, still frowning.

“I’ll go home, then.” Shisui got to his feet slowly, languidly. “Maybe I can convince him to come out for drinks or something. Thanks, by the way.”

“For what?” Sakura looked surprised.

“For talking to me. For taking notice of Itachi and letting me know you think something might be wrong. I appreciate it.” He liked knowing there were other eyes on Itachi, eyes that knew he was sick, because Shisui couldn’t be everywhere at once. He waved casually, before leaping away, skimming across rooftops until he was home.

He paused outside the front door. Maybe Itachi wasn’t home, after all. There was no answering flicker of chakra at Shisui’s arrival. Could he have left again; gone to Izumi, perhaps?

With a shrug, Shisui opened the door.

“Itachi!” Shisui felt his heart constrict, throat suddenly tight, at the sight of Itachi collapsed on the floor and lying utterly still. “Oh, god, no, Itachi.” He was at his side in an instant, on his knees and reaching frantically to check for a pulse, feeling utterly sick with dread.

“Come on, come on, you’re fine.” His hand was shaking, it took him a moment to get his fingers pressed to the right spot. To his everlasting relief, there was a faint beat under his fingertips. He hauled Itachi up slightly, holding him against his chest, still trying to quell panic. “Itachi, I’m right here, okay, I’m here, it’ll be fine, please wake up.”

He needed help. He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t dare leave.

He was frozen with indecision when Itachi stirred slightly. “Itachi? Love, can you hear me? I’m here, it’s gonna be okay, just . . . god, don’t let this be the end.”

It took a clearly visible effort for Itachi to open his eyes, blinking at Shisui, a bit confused, before realising where he was, and what was happening, and by then Shisui’s sense of relief was so staggering he was glad to already be down on his knees.

“Itachi? What happened?”

“It’s nothing,” Itachi murmured, soft spoken and sounding broken. _Just had my dream shattered_. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t even start with me,” Shisui shook his head. “You’re not fine. We’re going to Tsunade, now, and-“

“I don’t want to talk to her.” Itachi turned his face away, avoiding eye contact, looking studiously at the wall.

_But why . . .?_ Shisui hesitated slightly. “Itachi. You have to see her.”

Itachi made a half-hearted attempt to pull out of Shisui’s arms, but gave up quickly.

“What did she say to you?” Shisui asked gently. Something must have happened. He needed to know what.

“I told you, it was nothing.”

“You’re telling me ‘nothing’ made you collapse?” He knew he sounded angry, but he couldn’t help it. He was panicked, and upset, and Itachi wasn’t helping. “We are going, right now, to the hospital-“

“We are not.” Itachi’s tone left no room for argument.

“Itachi-“

“No.” More forcefully now, Itachi pulled out of Shisui’s grip, shifting away until he could sit with his back to the wall, dark eyes downcast. “We don’t need to. I know what to do. The doctors can’t change anything.”

Shisui did not look happy with the decision. However, he knew arguing would probably be pointless. “What do you need?”

“Can you . . . help me get up? My meds are in the kitchen.” Itachi looked uncertain, as though Shisui might refuse unless he bargained in a visit to the hospital as well.

But Shisui nodded, standing up and reaching out a hand for Itachi to grasp. He pulled him to his feet easily, but didn’t let go. “Can you walk?”

“Yes.”

Once Itachi was sitting at the kitchen table, selecting the pills he needed – Shisui hadn’t realized there were so many now – Shisui tried again. “What upset you?”

Itachi glanced up at him, but stayed silent.

“You told me it gets worse when you’re stressed. You came from a meeting. So I’ll ask again – what upset you?”

“Private matter.” Itachi murmured, refusing eye contact.

“Itachi.” Shisui sat down opposite him, waiting patiently until Itachi glanced hesitantly at him. “I came home and thought this was the end. I came home to find you collapsed on the floor. There has never been a moment in my life where I’ve been more terrified. So I think you owe me a little bit more than ‘nothing’.”

Itachi lowered his eyes again. “I can’t tell you. Confidential information between the Hokage and myself.”

Shisui would have more luck interrogating a brick wall. “Okay.”

He watched Itachi quietly swallow everything down, taking note of the paler than usual tone of his skin. Itachi was avoiding using his left arm. If Shisui looked closely, he could see it trembling slightly. Itachi was trying to close his hand, and failing. Shisui reached over, taking Itachi’s hand in his own.

Itachi flicked his eyes up to look at Shisui.

“Do you want to eat something?” he asked. “Or just go to bed?”

_I want to be Hokage . . ._ “Bed.”

“Are you sure you’ll be alright? I’ll drag Sakura here if you don’t want to talk to Tsunade.”

“I’ll be fine.” _I’m not fine_. “It’s . . . it’s nothing you can help with.” He stared at the table again.

“You know you can talk to me about anything,” Shisui reminded him softly. “I won’t tell anybody.”

“I know.” Itachi sounded small, defeated.

Shisui waited to see if he would speak again, but Itachi remained steadfastly silent. After a few solemn minutes, he got up and moved sluggishly to the bedroom.

Shisui followed, somewhat anxious, in case he collapsed.

Itachi looked exhausted, as though whatever had happened had absolutely drained him of all energy and intent to do anything. He flopped onto the bed in the most uncaring manner Shisui had ever seen from him, lying with his face in the pillow.

“Do you want me to lie here with you?” Shisui asked. He didn’t really want to leave Itachi, but he wasn’t sure his company was welcomed or not.

Itachi said nothing, turning his head just enough that one moist, dark eye could peer out at him. It looked like a plea, and Shisui gave in instantly, moving to lie down beside him. He kept his comments tactfully to himself when Itachi plastered himself to Shisui’s body, but he had so many questions.

_What are you trying to get away from?_ Shisui thought, lying still as Itachi burrowed his face resolutely into his chest. _What are you trying to hide?_

“I’m sorry,” Itachi murmured, clutching his stronger right hand in Shisui’s shirt to hold him still.

“For what?” Shisui was surprised. _You didn’t do anything wrong . . ._

“That I’m failing . . .”

That seemed like an unusual thing to say. Shisui just held him close, frowning and worried. _Failing?_ “You’re not.” _What happened?_

“I am, because I can’t do it . . .”

What was ‘it’? Shisui pressed his lips to Itachi’s hair. “Hey, it’s okay. Everything’s fine. Just go to sleep. It’ll be fine.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Itachi despair like this – it must have been years ago, all the way back when his parents were killed. “Shh, just go to sleep. We can sort it out in the morning.”

Itachi mumbled something else against his chest, but the words were slow and tired. One thing working in Shisui’s favour was the fact that the painkillers Tsunade had given him knocked him out pretty easily – so at least Shisui knew Itachi could sleep off whatever was bothering him.

He wanted to know what it was, though. What could be so important that it upset him to such a degree?

Itachi had grown quiet now, breathing settling into a steady rhythm, and the staccato beat of his heart was smoothing into something more normal, and less panic-inducing. Shisui stayed where he was even when the grip on his shirt loosened.

When he found the chance, he was having a talk with Tsunade.


	35. 34 - Mysteries

Orochimaru and all his shinobi were gone, and Sasuke was standing alone with his thoughts and the whispering seal by the wreckage of the hideout.

He felt someone approach, and turned around warningly, ready to attack if needed. His heart was filled to the brim with untameable and unrecognisable emotions.

“If it’s power you’re looking for,” the presence said, not at all cautious or concerned in its approach, “I can help you with that.”

“I have what I need.” He wasn’t interested in an alliance.

“Are you strong enough, yet? To defeat Itachi?”

Sasuke finally turned around fully, eyes narrowing dangerously at the masked man standing before him, and the seal gave him the words. “I’ve been strong enough for years.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I need your assistance then. I need someone to take him down.” _And you_ , he thought, _are the perfect bait_. Because Itachi wouldn’t harm him, if it were at all possible to avoid it. Itachi would hesitate, and he would hold back, and he would be distracted enough not to interfere with the rest of the plan.

Things had been moving slowly with Madara’s plans, because Itachi was the one that needed planning to defeat. Itachi was the easiest to manipulate, but the most dangerous to wrangle. Sasuke would make everything so much easier.

“I don’t need your help,” Sasuke stated plainly, preparing to turn away.

“You make one move against Itachi and you’ll have the full force of the Leaf upon you in an instant.”

Sasuke paused.

“I will take on the Leaf. All I need is you to keep Itachi occupied. Show him your power . . .”

The seal on Sasuke’s neck almost burned at the word. _Power_. That’s what it craved, and it clouded his mind and pushed logic and empathy aside. He eyed the masked man. “What do you need?”

The mask obscured the cruel and twisted grin. “All I need is you.”

 

Itachi had a network of eyes and ears across all five countries now, and it meant that news got to him quickly – especially about his brother.

It was Naruto who got the message first, coincidentally being near the gates, and stormed his way into Itachi’s office the very second it arrived.

“Sasuke killed Orochimaru.” Naruto sounded subdued, as though suddenly feeling the hopelessness of his task. Bringing Sasuke back, to the Leaf and to his senses, seemed more and more challenging every day.

That saved Itachi a kill, though. He looked at the solemn blonde boy sitting opposite his desk. “Is he alright?”

“Seems like it. I don’t know where he’s gone now.”

“The villages we’re allied with will send word if they see him,” Itachi said. “He’ll . . . He’ll come back to us . . .”

“I promised you,” Naruto said. “That I would bring him home. And I will. You have my word.”

“And I believe it,” Itachi said gently, wanting to encourage. In Sasuke’s absence, all Itachi’s deep seated older brother tendencies had descended firmly onto Naruto. “I have complete faith in you.”

“What happens when he comes home?” Naruto asked. “Because . . . because he’s labelled a traitor. Will . . . will you let him back in the village?”

 _I would. Absolutely_. “That’s not up to me to decide.”

“You’re on the council,” Naruto pointed out. “So . . . You have a say.”

“Yes.” Itachi probably had more say than anyone else in existence, given his rather extensive list of credentials and associations. He had more than a passing interest in Sasuke, but it remained to be seen how the rest of Konoha would react. “I’ll do whatever I can to help him.”

Itachi was determined to get his brother home safely, no matter what the rest of the world thought. It was comforting to know Naruto was on his side, behind him one hundred per cent, because the boy was not only garnering fame for his abilities as a ninja, but was also close to the Hokage. Tsunade was oddly maternal towards the young blond, and Itachi knew his influence would help when it came to passing judgement on Sasuke.

“Sasuke hasn’t changed,” Naruto added stubbornly. “He’s still a Leaf ninja. He’s still the same person he was – it was Orochimaru that made him do things.”

“I know.”

“But we don’t know where he’s gone, now.” Naruto was subdued, face creased into a thoughtful frown. “Why didn’t he come home?”

“The cursed seal has control over him. He can be influenced.” Itachi sighed. “He’ll probably do whatever he’s told. We need to find out where he’s gone, and who he’s with. Send messages back; let everyone know that if he’s seen, I want to know immediately.”

“I will.” Naruto nodded. “You can count on me.”

 _I know I can_. Itachi offered a wan smile. He had his own theory about where Sasuke was.

The problem was _finding_ him – because Itachi had no idea where Madara and Obito had moved to, but he was certain Sasuke was with them. It was the only thing that made sense; Obito wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to get back at Itachi for the massacre of Akatsuki, and Sasuke was the easiest way to do so.

For now, though, all Itachi could do was wait for Madara or Obito to make their next move.

He dismissed Naruto shortly after, sitting at his desk for a moment and contemplating what he had to do next.

It was Itachi’s duty to report Sasuke’s sighting to Tsunade, and he made his way to her office reluctantly.

It was the last place he wanted to be.

“Sasuke was spotted.” Itachi did not waste time with pleasantries. He stood in front of Tsunade’s desk, looking blank, holding out a note one of the smaller villages had sent him, detailing what they knew about Sasuke.

Tsunade took it from him, but didn’t look at it. She had other things occupying her mind – namely, their last conversation. “Can we talk?”

“We don’t have anything to talk about.”

Tsunade closed her eyes briefly. “Please, sit down.”

Itachi didn’t move.

“You can be angry at me,” Tsunade said. “You can hate me. But you know I did the right thing for Konoha. You know you wouldn’t be able to do this-“

Itachi shifted away, moving restlessly.

“I know you don’t what to hear that, because so far you’ve been able to do anything, and everything, but this is different.”

“Sasuke is with Madara, now.” Itachi pointedly refused to engage with Tsunade’s attempted conversation. “I want him back.”

“Itachi.”

He glanced at her, briefly, then looked away. “I don’t know where Madara’s hiding now. So we have to wait until he comes to us. And he will.”

“Sit down.”

“I’m ready.” There was a slight crack in Itachi’s voice. “Whenever he attacks. We have a plan, and we’ve been working. I’m ready.”

“Can you just listen to me, for five minutes? That’s all I’m asking.” Tsunade waited patiently, until Itachi had edged closer, not sitting, not making eye contact, but it was as receptive as he was going to get. She heaved a sigh. “I know you’re upset with me. And probably at yourself, because this isn’t something that you can get rid of simply by being the best. But at this stage, you stand a better chance by taking life a little easier. Hokage isn’t easy. And you worry. What I’d like to see even more than you ruling this village, is you alive.”

Itachi’s flicked his gaze to Tsunade.

“You cannot keep pushing yourself the way you’ve always done. You have a limit. We’ve reached it. You know as well as I do that you would not be fit enough to do this job.”

“I’ll get better,” Itachi said stubbornly.

“I want to believe you. But everything else is to the contrary.” Tsunade shook her head. “Itachi, maybe, in the future. In a few years. But for now, no. You cannot be named my successor to Hokage. I’m sorry. But it is the only option.”

Itachi finally glanced towards her, standing quietly for a few minutes. “How much longer do you think I have?”

“I thought you’d be dead months ago,” Tsunade admitted, lacing her fingers together. “But maybe you’re too stubborn to die.” When Itachi said nothing, Tsunade added, “A few years, maybe. Or months. I can’t tell anymore.”

“If I cannot be Hokage, can I ask you for one other thing, for my future?”

“Anything.”

Itachi pulled a neatly folded paper from his pocket. It was meticulously creased, but the edges were soft and dog eared. He had clearly been carrying it around for some time. “And I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone what this was, for now.”

Tsunade unfolded the paper. After skimming over it, she raised her eyebrows. “What is this?”

“Exactly what it says.”

Tsunade looked up at him, squinting a bit. “This is an interesting secret.”

“When Sasuke is home, and Madara is defeated, then people can know.” Itachi’s gaze was steady. “Then I _want_ people to know.”

“Until then,” Tsunade folded the paper again, and slid it into a drawer of her desk. “I will keep it a secret. You let me know when you’re ready.”

“I will.”

“One more thing,” Tsunade said, looking affectionately at Itachi. “Does Shisui know about this?”

Itachi smiled, soft and genuine. “No. He doesn’t know.”

“Big secret then,” Tsunade nodded. “It’s safe with me.”

“And if something goes wrong. If I don’t make it. Will you give it to him?”

“Of course.” She could see Itachi was ready to leave. Before he could, though, she added. “Itachi. Don’t make too many plans for being dead.”

He looked at her seriously. “I’ve got more plans for being alive.”

 

The village was quiet, bathed in moonlight.

Shisui hit the edge of the balcony lightly, dropping down onto it with barely a sound.

“What do you want, Shisui?” Tsunade sounded tired, irritable, but maybe that was because Shisui had shown up at her house in the middle of the night en route home from a mission. The Anbu guards that were stationed nearby had backed away when they recognised him, and Shisui knew they had the night to themselves for a while.

“Itachi’s still sick.”

“I’m aware of that,” Tsunade said. “I am the one treating him.”

Shisui’s anger had been boiling close to the surface for a while now, ever since he came home to Itachi collapsed on the floor, because he still didn’t know what had upset him so much, only that it had followed a confidential meeting with the Hokage. “Can you do nothing for him?” Shisui asked harshly.

“Do you think I’m not trying?” Tsunade snapped back, just as ready for a fight. “I’m not standing idly by watching him fade away, I’m doing everything possible. _Nothing_ is going to work – he cannot be cured.”

Not even Itachi’s stubbornness and determination could change this. Everyone was helpless.

“Did you tell him that?” Shisui asked, voice low and rough. “Did you tell him there was no hope?”

“No. He knew before I did.”

“Then what did you say to him?” Shisui snapped. “What did you say that upset him so much? What did you say that crumbled his defences? He was so unhappy, and he won’t tell me what it was. What did you do?”

“I did what I had to! If he won’t tell you what it was, then I certainly won’t, because he obviously doesn’t want you to know.”

“You broke him!”

“He was already broken!” Tsunade yelled, and they both stopped then, taken aback and realising the absolutely crushing defeat that came with that statement. “Shisui, I can’t change anything. I don’t know what else you want from me.”

“I want you to help him.”

“I can’t! There is nothing I can do. It’s all up to him, he’ll either survive or he won’t, but nothing I do is going to change that. Don’t you understand that you’re not the only one hurting – I want him to be better as well. I want him to survive. For so many reasons. You’re not the only person he has who wants him to live.”

Shisui swallowed. “He’s going to die.”

“Yes.”

“We can’t stop it.”

“No.”

“If he would just . . . slow down . . . take it easy . . . maybe . . .?” Shisui sounded hopeful, clinging to one last thread of possibility.

“I think,” Tsunade said slowly, “That keeping busy is helping him. I think it is his only source of hope right now. I will not be the one to tell him to stop what he is doing. I will not take the last thing he has from him. He needs to work. He needs to keep going, because he has a goal.”

“He needs to stop.”

“Are you going to tear his dream away from him?” Tsunade challenged. “Are you going to be the one who steps in and tells him to stop trying anymore? Tell him to give up because we all know its hopeless now. Gods, Shisui, let him have _something_. Don’t you care at all?”

“I care more than you,” Shisui snapped. “I _love_ him.”

They glared at each other, passion rising. Tsunade broke the silence first. “Then you wouldn’t want to take the last thing he has from him.”

“He’s still running missions. He’s still doing _everything_. He needs to stop, because it’s too much. I can hear it, when he breathes at night. It doesn’t sound right. It sounds awful, and it hurts, you can see it on his face. He barely sleeps because it hurts to breathe. And I just . . . I just don’t know what to do. I want to help.”

“We all want to help.” Tsunade said. “But we can’t. It’s all up to him. And luck.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“It’s the best we’ve got,” Tsunade snapped. “I’ve used every healing jutsu I know, I’ve given him every possible drug we have, there is nothing more I can do. There is _nothing_ , and the only hope we have is sheer, dumb luck that he pulls through this. I can’t offer you anything more than that.”

“Pull him from missions,” Shisui said stubbornly.

“Not until he asks.”

“He’ll never ask.” They both knew Itachi would go down fighting, no matter what the situation was, but that was something Shisui couldn’t live with. He couldn’t stand every mission Itachi was away, waiting in agony for him to return, terrified in case he didn’t. He couldn’t go through much more; sleepless nights listening to Itachi struggle to find a comfortable way to lie and breathe, dreading coming home to find him collapsed on the floor, dreading even more that maybe he wouldn’t wake up one morning. “He would die before giving up.”

Tsunade sighed lightly. “Yeah. He would.”

Shisui was feeling defeated, all the raging ire knocked out of him by reality and the terror of his fantasies.

Tsunade looked at the young ninja in front of her, looking at his abject misery. She cleared her throat. “He’s lucky to have you. Someone to help him get through this. Someone who loves him so much.”

“But loving him isn’t going to be enough,” Shisui said, sounding anguished.

There was no argument Tsunade could make against that. She nodded slowly, unsure of what to say to make Shisui feel any better. There was nothing. Nothing would make anything easier. She wished she could offer him a little bit of comfort. “Flames that burn as bright as Itachi don’t last for long.”

Shisui glanced at her with dark, worried eyes. “Flames will burn forever if someone knows how to fan them.” He turned around, ready to leave. The conversation was no longer useful, and he wanted to go home, and crawl into bed, and hold Itachi close.

Tsunade looked at the Uchiha crest on Shisui’s back. “Then I guess there’s no one better for him than you.”

 

As weeks wore on, and Itachi’s illness progressed, he grew quieter.

Itachi had never been loud, had never wasted words, but he had been unequivocally _alive_ , quick and always moving, analysing things in an instant and constantly moving forward.

Now, he seemed subdued. Slower, gentler, and tender.

He carefully poured water over his lily, sitting in front of it, and smoothing drops of water off the leaves. Running his fingers over the larger leaves, gently cupping each flower and leaning forward to inhale its scent. Everything slow, languid, unhurried.

Shisui was behind him, arms crossed over his chest, and he wondered if Itachi even knew he was there. Lately, it had seemed that Itachi wasn’t as aware of his surroundings. And Shisui was worried, because he knew that no one else in the village – except Tsunade and Sakura – had any idea that Itachi was sick.

No one in Anbu knew, no one else in the council knew. No one in the clan knew.

Shisui was worried because Itachi was still on active duty. He was still going out on missions, sometimes alone, and Shisui didn’t know how much longer he could keep quiet about it. He wanted Itachi to stop. The normally razor-sharp edge to the prodigy had been dulled, and Shisui spent every mission he was away agonising in case he didn’t return.

Being a shinobi had never been safe, but now it felt like Itachi was courting death every time he set foot outside the village. And with Itachi’s peace keeping mission months earlier, there had been more cries for help from smaller villages.

Itachi sat back on his heels, still looking at the lily with a soft and fond expression on his face.

“You okay?” Shisui asked.

Itachi did not flinch, he didn’t move at all, but Shisui felt his chakra spike in surprise, and he knew he had been right. Itachi had not known he was there. His voice when he answered was steady, controlled. “I’m fine.”

 _No, you’re not_. Shisui could see the outline of Itachi’s shoulder blade when the light caught the back of his shirt just right. That bone looked sharper than it had a few weeks ago. Shisui knew Itachi had lost weight, lost muscle tone. He knew Itachi’s body intimately, and he could see the changes.

He felt so helpless.

Shisui took a few cautious steps closer, and sank to his knees next to Itachi. He kept his eyes on the lily, counting the flowers.

Itachi’s first bit of peace. He had called it his starting point. The plant was growing, thriving, reaching ever farther, just like Itachi’s dream, but unlike the person who was nurturing it, caring for it, devoted to it. It didn’t seem fair. It seemed completely unfair, and Shisui felt an irrational spike of hatred towards the plant. Why was it alive and doing well, when Itachi wasn’t? Why was it growing and strengthening, while Itachi failed and withered before Shisui’s very eyes?

It wasn’t fair.

Life wasn’t fair; it was cruel, and unjust, and the whole world was laughing and conspiring against them.

Shisui’s hands tightened into fists.

“Is everything alright?” Itachi asked, mildly, calmly, like he did everything these days. Shisui wanted the days back when Itachi was dry and on edge, always flitting from one thought to another. He wasn’t supposed to be still.

And no, it wasn’t alright. There was nothing alright about the pale – paler – colour to Itachi’s skin, how it was carefully pulled over bone that should have been cushioned by lithe muscle. There was nothing alright about how delicate he looked these days, like a porcelain doll, and no longer a deadly weapon. There was nothing alright about his eyes, once so sharp and calculating, threatening and lethal, but now tranquil and still as the surface of the lake at night.

Shisui shook his head.

And Itachi should have demanded an answer, should have questioned Shisui, interrogated until he knew what was distressing him. But Itachi already knew. He placed one of his hands over one of Shisui’s, squeezing gently.

It was too much and not enough, and Shisui knew, just _knew_ , that their time was running out. There was no denying it now. There was no way around it, no more hiding, no more denying.

“I can’t lose you,” he said, and once he had given voice to the thought, it felt like the whole world cracked, and his chest ached, throat filled with a hard lump, and his eyes stung as unbidden tears welled.

Itachi could say nothing in reply. He could offer no comfort.

Instead, he put an arm around Shisui’s shoulders and drew him close. He was colder than he should have been. He was always cold these days.

Shisui leant his face into the crook of Itachi’s neck, and he could feel the jump of Itachi’s pulse, and he knew it would stop one day. He would run out of heart beats, and the thought was too much to bear. Eyes closed, Shisui let go of the tears, and sobbed unashamedly into Itachi’s neck, whole body shuddering.

The grip around his body tightened, the only way Itachi had to offer comfort. A hollow comfort, because nothing they said or did would make this any easier.

“Please stop,” Shisui said between desperate sobs. He felt like a child again, crying his eyes out over something he couldn’t change. “Please stop missions. I can’t lose you.” He was drawing in stricken gasps of air, tears clogging his lungs. “Please.”

Itachi rested his cheek on the top of Shisui’s head, the unruly and untameable curls tickling. He said nothing, which Shisui knew was his answer. He wouldn’t stop missions. He couldn’t.

“I can’t pick your body up off the battlefield,” Shisui continued. “I’m not strong enough. I can’t do it. Please, _please_ don’t put yourself into any more danger.”

“Shisui . . .” His voice was just a whisper, tired and weighted down by life and living.

“Just stop, please. Why won’t you?”

“The world still needs me.”

“I need you.”

 _Shisui, I’m running out of time. I need to finish this journey. I need to reach this dream_. “I’m sorry. I can’t stop.”

“You said you didn’t want to hurt me, but it does,” Shisui’s voice was hoarse. “The whole world hurts, every day, every time I look at you . . .”

“I know.”

“How do you do it? How can you still be so strong when everything is crumbling around us? How can you live each day . . . if it hurts me this much, you must always be in agony.”

“I can manage.” Itachi assured him, pressing a gentle kiss to Shisui’s hair. _I’d take your pain away in a heartbeat if I could . . ._ He moved gently, pulling away just enough to tip Shisui’s head to look at him. Shisui’s eyes were dark and wet, holding back more tears. He looked unafraid into Itachi’s eyes, and he didn’t question why they were red and bright. Maybe this was a moment Itachi wanted to remember.

There was a sudden, soothing sense of calm through him. Just gentle reassurance from the red eyes looking deep into his _– It will be alright. We will manage_.

The feeling spread throughout him, softly easing into every part of his body, and the ache in his chest eased, the sick twist in his stomach faded slightly, and the world didn’t feel as cold and heavy. Shisui let out a sigh. “Itachi . . .”

“It’ll be fine.” Itachi knew he was lying, but he also knew Shisui wasn’t aware of it.

The peacefulness remained, and Shisui managed a wan smile. “How do you do it? How are you still so perfect, with everything that goes on around you? How is it that you can carry the whole world . . . that you’re strong enough to do it? I thought . . . When did you overtake me?”

Itachi was clearly the stronger now, in every sense of the word, even with his body breaking down against his will.

Itachi smoothed tears off Shisui’s cheeks, and spoke softly. “I didn’t.” He pressed a gentle kiss to Shisui’s lips. “You chose to follow me.”


	36. 35 - Start of the Future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For IceyPaws

The Kage villages were the last pieces of the puzzle.

Itachi was drafting letters on behalf of the council to organise a meeting between the five countries. Word had spread quickly about what he had been doing, and so far things had been silent from the other Kage villages, no threats or attempts at conflict. Hearsay was one thing; Itachi wanted it to be official.

And he needed to get those villages to declare peace while he was still strong enough to do something if they declined.

The soft, familiar knock on his office door startled him out of his thoughts. He was already smiling before the door was fully open. “Hello, Izumi.”

“Hi,” she returned the smile. “We haven’t spoken in a while. I wanted to check in.”

“I’ve been fine.” He pushed some of the papers aside, turning his full attention to Izumi as she sat down opposite him. She did not look convinced.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Izumi asked, forehead creased in worry. “You look like you’ve lost weight.”

“I’m fine.” He knew he was lying. “It’s just stress.”

“Is it?” Izumi met his eyes bravely. “Because it doesn’t look like ‘just stress’. Something has been going on with you, hasn’t it?”

Why was he still trying to hide this? He trusted Izumi implicitly. He sighed. “Yes.”

She tried not to look worried. “Is it . . . very concerning?”

He paused. “Yes.”

There was a long silence between them. Izumi cleared her throat softly, “What’s wrong with you?”

“I don’t know, exactly. I’ve been having some problems with . . . my lungs and my heart.” He knew it sounded serious when he put it like that, because those were two very vital organs. He waited, eying her cautiously, to see what her reaction would be.

There was a flicker of fear across her eyes, her skin paled slightly.

He wanted to reassure her. “I’ll be fine.”

The lie tasted bitter, but he kept a straight face. It didn’t matter.

“Don’t lie to me,” Izumi said softly. She sighed. “You won’t be fine, will you?”

He shook his head slightly. “No. No, I won’t.” He knew his years were numbered now, he could feel it in his chest and the straining beat of his heart.

“No one knows,” he said softly.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Izumi promised instantly, and Itachi felt a warm rush of affection towards her. She was a steady friend.

He allowed a small, pleased smile.

Izumi did not return it. She looked strained, skin paling slightly at this news that was hard to accept and cut like a knife. Tight-lipped and frowning, she sat for a few silent moments, while Itachi watched, and he sympathized with her inability to comprehend everything.

She stood up suddenly, and he tilted his head back a bit to keep an eye on her as she approached. There was a moment of absolute nothingness, while Izumi stared at him with a raw and vulnerable gaze, and he stared back, hoping to convey an apology for his poor health, for the pain he knew he was going to cause everyone.

A brief shadow of indecision flitted across Izumi’s face, then her resolve seemed to harden, and before Itachi could question her she had come forward, closed the gap between them, and kissed him firmly on the mouth.

He stayed absolutely still; mostly confused. Izumi pulled away, eyes down, and turned on her heel to leave the room in a sudden hurry. He blinked a few times, trying to catch up to the situation, and was still sitting stupefied when Shisui flickered in through the window, hair a mess and skin shining sweat.

“Hey,” he greeted cheerfully. “Just did taijutsu training with Gai. It was pretty fun.” He seemed not to notice Itachi’s frozen shock. He ran a hand through his hair, damp locks stuck up in all directions.

“What’s going on?” Shisui asked, snatching some papers away from the desk. “Planning another trip? I thought Tsunade told you to stay put.” He studied Itachi’s notes. “Ah, a summit amongst the five Kages. In a few days? That’s soon.”

“Izumi kissed me.”

For a moment, Shisui thought he had misheard. He lowered the papers, staring at Itachi somewhat suspiciously.

Itachi looked incredibly nervous – he had no idea how Shisui was going to react.

Shisui put the papers down carefully, eyes never leaving Itachi. After a moment of blank silence, he spoke slowly, “That . . . is adorable.”

“What?”

“I told you she liked you,” Shisui was beaming. “That’s so cute. Aw, you guys would have made a cute couple. You know,” his grin turned slightly more predatory, “If I hadn’t got you first and thoroughly defiled you.”

“Indeed.”

Shisui’s grin did not subside. “She has no idea we’re a thing, does she?”

“I sincerely hope not.”

“Itachi’s got a girlfriend,” Shisui singsonged, looking delighted. “Do I need to start worrying about you cheating on me? Should I follow you if you leave the house at night?” He grinned.

“Stop it,” Itachi muttered. “You know I wouldn’t do that.”

“Who’s a better kisser?” Shisui changed directions in a heartbeat.

Itachi didn’t answer. He stared at his lap, the whole situation feeling strange and uncomfortable. There was a strange ache in his chest, because he felt awful for upsetting Izumi, and frustrated with himself for being unable to change what was happening to him.

There was too much to do, and a time limit sitting over his head. He came back to reality when Shisui cupped his cheek gently in one hand, lifting his head to look at him.

“Hey, Panda,” Shisui said softly, and Itachi almost rolled his eyes. “Don’t look so sad.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Everything will be fine.” Shisui wanted to reassure, wanted to let Itachi know that they would manage everything he needed to do. “You’ll get it all done. You’ll live to see it – you’ve made it here, there’s no reason you can’t keep going forever.”

Shisui had been holding fiercely onto hope – because Itachi had staggered this far on the path he wanted, Shisui fervently hoped he could keep going. Maybe forever, maybe have a perfectly normal life. Itachi wasn’t getting better, but he wasn’t getting worse.

Between Itachi’s dogged determination and Tsunade’s scrutiny and surveillance, things with Itachi’s health seemed to have reached a stalemate, getting no worse and no better.

“We’ll just keep doing what we’re doing,” Shisui said gently. “You’re gonna be fine.” He had been hopeful by Itachi’s lack of degeneration. They were more cautious now; Shisui was constantly checking up that Itachi took his medicine, and Tsunade echoed him, and Itachi was mindful of what he was eating, sticking to the diet Sakura outlined. Shisui kept track of the hours he was working and bodily intervened when he thought a rest was in order.

Through it all, Itachi was keeping up. He hadn’t stopped training, although more often than not he would collapse the second he got home, and it was Shisui who coaxed him awake a few hours later to take his meds, eat something, and then let him go back to sleep. He fell asleep easier these days, but woke just as easily. It might have been broken sleep, but at least he was getting sleep, which was better than it had been a few months ago.

“I should get back to work,” Itachi said quietly, interrupting Shisui’s musings. “If everything goes well, the first meeting between the five villages will be in three days. I need to be ready.”

“You’ll be ready,” Shisui assured him. “You can do anything.”

_Can’t be Hokage_. “I’ll come home once I’m finished here.” Itachi murmured. “It shouldn’t take too much longer.”

It sounded like a dismissal. Shisui didn’t miss the hint. He straightened up. “Okay. Don’t work too hard.”

Itachi offered him a small smile. “I won’t.”

 

The first meeting between the five villages, three days later, felt the most nerve wracking. Itachi stood behind Tsunade, as both a member of council and as a body guard, deathly silent and agonizing over the proceedings. He probably would have been happier with a full-on battle; politics were terrifying and difficult to control.

But he stayed strong, calm, and all four other Kage villages had sent dignitaries to the Leaf for the first discussion about the peace treaties. This had been Itachi’s personal pet project for years, and the possibility of it failing was almost too much to handle. It felt too easy, just having everyone talk and weigh their options. It felt like there should be some sort of violent interruption, some life-threatening challenge.

But there wasn’t. There was nothing but calm voices, questions. By the time the meeting ended, Itachi had relaxed a fraction. It didn’t feel like the world was getting ready to explode. It didn’t feel peaceful, by any means, but things had gone better than he had hoped, and as the meeting finished and the Kage village representatives went their own ways, Itachi had almost solidified his little thread of hope.

He and Tsunade were the last two people left in the conference room.

She turned in her seat to face him, a satisfied smile on her face. “Well. Looks like you’ll live to see this dream through to the end, after all.”

He did not smile back.

“You don’t look very happy about it,” she raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”

“Doesn’t it feel too easy, to you?” There was a frown settling on his face.

“You did all the hard work already.” Tsunade spoke gently. “And settling things with politics is very different to settling things with war or conflict. Think of it as a new experience for you. No more fighting. This is a bloodless revolution.”

The last bloodless revolution he had been a part of had gone spectacularly wrong. What if this one did too?

Tsunade stood up, pausing next to him to lay a hand on his shoulder. “There is nothing to worry about anymore. You’ve led everyone to where you need them to be.”

“Except Sasuke . . .”

“You led your clan back into the Leaf. You led every village to stand at your side. You led the whole world towards peace. If you can manage all that,” she moved her hand to flick at the black cord around his neck, attached to the red shell. “I think you can lead your brother home, as well.”

 

Walking home after the council meeting, Itachi was deep in thought. So he was almost on top of her before he noticed Izumi standing hesitantly at his house. He stopped dead in his tracks. He had no idea what to think.

There was a faint pink tinge to her cheeks, and she was avoiding his eyes. Clearing her throat softly, she asked, “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine.” It was his standard answer. He wasn’t feeling creative enough for anything else.

“Um,” she tucked some hair behind her ear. “So last time we spoke . . .”

_You kissed me_. He waited.

“I’m not sorry.” She finally summoned the courage to lift her head, looking defiantly at him. “I’m not sorry about what I did.”

“That’s . . . fine . . .”

“I probably shouldn’t have done it, but I don’t regret it. Because . . . because it’s been years, Itachi, since I first knew that you were special. That you were different. I never did anything before because I knew you didn’t feel the same. But . . . it’s _you_ . . .”

He had no idea what she meant. Talking to girls had never been one of his talents.

“I know you don’t love me. Not like that.” She shrugged. “I’m over that. I’ve known for years. But I thought that maybe things would change. You were young, and you’re not good with people, and I thought that maybe when you were older, and things were more settled in the Leaf you might think about things other than being a ninja. And maybe we would have a future. I think . . . I just wanted to know what that future would be like.”

He remained standing still, looking somewhat trapped.

“Then I thought maybe there was someone else, but that’s impossible because you never spend time with anyone else. I know I’m rambling. I just . . . I just wanted to say that it’s okay, I understand, you don’t need to do anything about what I did. I’ll let it go.”

His mouth worked before his brain could warn him. “There is someone.”

And then he wanted to kick himself, because why would he say that? Because Izumi was his closest friend, since Shisui had upgraded from ‘friend’ and he wanted her to know. He thought she deserved the truth.

Her eyes widened. “Really? I . . . Sorry, I don’t want to sound too surprised but . . . I am.” She gathered her composure, asking in a more controlled tone, “Who is she?”

Itachi bit his lower lip. With no small amount of reluctance, he mumbled, “Shisui.”

Oh. _Oh_. “. . .” Izumi didn’t move. She didn’t even flinch. Itachi was secretly impressed. “Huh . . .”

Itachi’s hand went to his hair, fingers twisting nervously. “Well . . .” What was he supposed to say next?

There was a long silence. It wasn’t as awkward as Itachi expected. Izumi seemed to be thinking hard, calculating a response. He waited tensely.

“So . . .” She began cautiously. “That’s . . . not that unexpected, I suppose.” She paused. “How did I not notice that sooner?”

He shrugged, unsure. According to Kakashi it was so glaringly obvious that the entire village should have been aware since day one. Hesitantly, he asked, “Is that alright?”

Because he needed to know. Because he didn’t know what she was going to think of him, and he didn’t want to lose her as a friend.

She looked startled at the question. “Is it . . .? Of course is it. Why wouldn’t it be alright?”

There was a massive sense of relief that flooded through him. He offered a tentative smile.

Izumi looked soft and accepting, looking back at him without a hint of disgust or anything negative. She spoke gently, “I hope Shisui knows how lucky he is.”

“He’ll catch on eventually.”

She chuckled slightly. “Yes, he will.” Her smile was sunny. “I’m glad you’re happy. That’s really what’s most important.”

“Thank you,” he said. “For not judging. Or . . . anything else.”

“You’re a genius. If you think it’s the right thing, then it definitely is. You’ve never been wrong before.” Izumi smiled at him. “Do I want to know how long it’s been going on?”

“No,” he replied instantly. “You don’t.”

She just nodded, before stepping forward to wrap her arms around him, face in his chest. “Thank you for trusting me with this. With everything.”

Somewhat hesitantly, because he wasn’t used to affection from anyone other than Shisui and Sasuke, he returned the embrace. She tightened her grip. They stayed like that for a few long moments, until a sudden interruption presented itself in the form of someone else appearing and joining the hug.

“Group hug!” Shisui yelled, seemingly from nowhere.

“Shisui,” Itachi shook him off, giving him a half-hearted glare. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to hear how the meeting went.”

“Wasn’t it the Kage summit today?” Izumi suddenly realised, eyes widening. “Did it go okay? Is everything fine?”

“It wasn’t the actual summit today,” Itachi explained. “Just dignitaries from the five villages meeting to discuss the summit. A summary of the peace accords was given to everyone, and the Kages will meet in several days for the preliminary hearing, and to discuss any changes that need to be made or queried. Then it’s the official summit. In a few weeks.”

“Yeah, yeah, politics,” Shisui waved a hand dismissively. “Not what we’re asking. The question was: Did everything go right?”

“What do you mean by ‘right’?” Itachi asked cautiously.

“Is every Kage village considering signing the peace accords?” Izumi explained patiently. “Will there be peace amongst the villages? Across all five countries?”

“It’s not official,” Itachi said carefully. Premature celebration was not something he was inclined to. “But . . . every Kage will be attending.”

“So, that’s a soft yes?” Shisui clarified.

There was a warm glow in Itachi’s chest at Shisui’s words. He smiled proudly. “Yes. It is.”

He jumped slightly as Shisui grabbed him from behind, and Izumi from the front, sandwiched between them.

“You did it,” Shisui murmured into his hair, and Izumi nodded against his chest. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Then let me breathe, please.” Itachi let out a sigh of relief as they both let him go. Breathing was hard enough without being crushed between two people.

“Can we please celebrate?” Shisui asked.

“I need to go over the notes for the meeting,” Itachi said. “Another night.”

“Tomorrow,” Shisui said firmly. “You’re not burying yourself in papers until the next meeting. We’re celebrating tomorrow. Izumi, you’re coming too.”

“Sure,” she agreed readily.

“We can go out for ramen,” Shisui decided.

“No,” Itachi interjected. “I’m not supposed to eat ramen. It’s bad for my heart.”

“Will one unhealthy meal kill you?” Shisui challenged.

“Do you want to take the risk?” Itachi shot back.

“Okay, boys, I’ll take over,” Izumi stepped between them. “I’ll cook. End of discussion.”

Itachi looked ready to argue, and she cut him off smoothly, “Itachi, no. Don’t say a word. Stop being a control freak for one night and let me take care of everything.”

“I should help,” he said.

“No, because you don’t ‘help’, you take over.” Izumi sent Shisui a look. “You’re responsible for keeping him from ‘helping’.”

“Got it. I’ll tie him to the bed and f-“

“Shisui,” Itachi interjected sharply.

Shisui snapped his mouth closed.

Izumi just shook her head, trying unsuccessfully to hide an amused smile. “Okay. I’ll see you both tomorrow night, then.”

Shisui nodded. “Yup.”

“Don’t over work yourself,” Itachi said.

Izumi forewent all pretence, and smiled sunnily at him. “You make hypocrisy look really cute.”

 

Dinner with Izumi was relaxing, and Shisui was delighted to see that Itachi did actually calm down around her, not fretting over work or the future or anything else. She was able to encourage him to talk somewhat aimlessly, and it was wonderful to know that there was someone else in Itachi’s life who was able to get him to transition out of his usual state of overwrought excitement.

They discussed the Kage summit only briefly, before Izumi steered the conversation onto less intense topics, including the time spent in Mist, plans for the future – Itachi tensed momentarily at that, and Shisui assumed it was anxiety over his health – and everything was peaceful.

It was long dark, with the sky starry above them, by the time they left Izumi to walk home side by side, taking their time and lingering along the way. They came through the back garden, and the air was heavy with the scent of blooming cherry blossoms.

Shisui was watching the starlight ripple on the surface of the pond, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment as the house drew closer. His mind was wandering; it had been ages since he and Itachi had been on a mission together. He wanted the two of them to go away again, to be able to lie side by side and watch the stars all night.

They were almost home when Itachi stopped. Shisui wandered a few steps ahead, nearly on the porch, before fully registering Itachi’s lack of presence at his side. He turned around. “Itachi?”

There was hesitation before Itachi spoke.

“Can I ask you something?” He sounded strangely uncertain. “Properly?”

“You do everything properly. But yeah, go ahead.” Shisui smiled.

Itachi did not return the smile. He edged away slightly, clearing his throat.

That got Shisui’s attention.

“I got you something.” Itachi’s dark eyes were anxious. “Had it for a while. Been thinking about it.”

Shisui didn’t think he had ever heard Itachi speak so cryptically and disjointed. He resisted the urge to interrupt.

“I know there are proper ways to do this, and I did think about it, but this is sort making it official, even though we’ve discussed it before. Not a lot, but I hope enough.”

“Itachi,” Shisui asked, feeling incredibly confused. “What are you going on about?”

Clearing his throat again, turning his head away, Itachi reached into his pocket, and wordlessly held something out at arm’s length. His eyes flicked to the side, peering at Shisui through a curtain of dark hair, and flicked away again, darting everywhere.

Shisui took the offered object. He frowned at the little velvet box. It was small, light, but it had wound Itachi into such a state there must be something terribly profound inside. Itachi was looking at him again, sideways and hidden, and it was so adorable Shisui didn’t care what the conversation brought; he was already perfectly happy with whatever was happening.

He was about to tease, when he flipped the little box open, and the words died in his throat. He was staring at a silver ring.

The world around him seemed to grind to a halt.

“How long have you had this?” Shisui breathed. His heart was suddenly pounding.

“When I was delayed in one of the villages. I had them made while I was there.” Itachi made a careful study of the ground.

“You said you were delayed drinking tea, you liar.” There was no bite behind his words, no accusation at all, just breathless wonder.

“To be fair, I did drink a lot of tea. I really did spend a week there trying different ones. Their jasmine tea was lovely.”

Shisui was still staring at the ring, watching the moonlight glide over smooth silver. “Where’s . . . where’s yours?”

Wordlessly, Itachi lifted the red shell out from under his shirt. He twisted it on its leather cord, so Shisui could see the inside of the shell. There was a silver ring tied into the creamy interior.

Shisui was momentarily stunned into silence. “Have you been wearing that since you got it?”

Itachi nodded.

“Why . . .” Shisui was still dazed, struggling to come up with words. “Why didn’t you just put it on your finger . . .?”

Itachi tucked the shell into his shirt again. He looked at Shisui. “This was the closest I could get it to my heart.”

“Oh, _Itachi_.” Shisui didn’t know what to do with himself. He was feeling breathless, and overwhelmed, and the quietly satisfied smile on Itachi’s face was too much to comprehend. It hurt, but in a deliciously beautiful way. The little velvet box was shaking in his grip.

“I just . . .” Itachi didn’t frown, exactly, but his expression closed down into something thoughtful and vulnerable. “You’ve done so much for me. I feel like you’re always there no matter what disasters are unfolding, and I never seem to give you anything back.”

“That’s not-“

“I wasn’t done,” Itachi interrupted. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to tell you how much you mean to me. There don’t seem to be enough words to express it, properly. So I thought . . . if I’m not good at saying it, like you are, I could still try to show you.”

Shisui took in a deep breath, suddenly remembering to breathe.

“I don’t know what the future holds. I don’t know if I can achieve everything I want. Bringing Sasuke home safely, and the Kage summit, and protecting the world, and giving it peace – and surviving.” Itachi shook his head slightly. “There’s a lot. And I know it’ll be hard. But even if I don’t manage all that, and even if something goes wrong somewhere, you already gave me everything I needed.” Itachi bit his lip softly. “I might not be able to bring peace to the whole world. But you . . . you gave it to me.”

Shisui was stunned into silence. He had no idea what to say, or even think. Time seemed to be frozen around them, nothing mattered except the moment right here, right now. The only thing he could focus on was his own beating heart and the way Itachi was still looking at him, dark eyes uncertain and defenceless and waiting in agony for Shisui to respond somehow.

Shisui stared at the ring in his hand, twisting the box in every direction. It was small, and weightless, but he could feel it so distinctly. He swallowed.

“Ask me properly,” Shisui mumbled, trying to sound coherent and relatively certain he was failing. “I just . . . I need . . . I want to hear you say it.”

“If I ask, will you say ‘yes’?” Itachi allowed a small smile now, a little bubble of happiness breaking through the anxiety and doubt about Shisui’s reaction. Gingerly, movements slowed by uncertainty but clearly deliberate, he reached for the little box in Shisui’s hand and pulled it free.

“I’ll say whatever you want me to say.” Shisui sounded breathless.

Itachi’s smile broadened for a split second, just a nervous quiver, then he cast his eyes down again, and Shisui didn’t think he had even seen a personification of fear quite so beautiful. He swallowed audibly, making sure the box was opened properly, that the ring was sitting perfectly. He was taking shallow little breaths, the enormity of the situation suddenly clenching around him.

But Itachi was stubborn, and determined. There was a look of complete resolve on his face, not a flicker of doubt left, and Shisui could see him gathering his thoughts. As collected as ever, he took in one deep, grounding breath, eyes closing for a few seconds. He dropped onto one knee gracefully, presenting the ring in a motion that looked suspiciously practiced. “Uchiha Shisui, will you-“

“Yes!” Shisui pulled Itachi onto his feet again, pressing insistent kisses against his lips. “Yes, yes, yes, _yes_.”

“But I didn’t-“

“ _Yes_ ,” Shisui cut him off with more kisses.

“But-“

“Stop talking, I said _yes_. Gimme.” Shisui waved his hand in front of Itachi’s face expectantly. Standing still was difficult, he felt wired and ready, bursting with too much energy and excitement. How could Itachi possibly be so calm?

Itachi pulled the ring free from its velvety casing. “Could you wear it on your right hand for now? Until I have a chance to figure out how to tell the clan?”

“No. Left hand.”

“Shisui-“

“No one is going to care. No one is even going to notice.” Shisui looked imploringly at Itachi. He didn’t know if big, moist eyes would work on someone like Itachi. Apparently, they did.

Itachi heaved a defeated sigh. “Fine. But if anyone asks-“

“No one will ask,” Shisui interrupted, with another gentle kiss to Itachi’s lips. “Stop worrying.”

Shisui was practically vibrating with impatience as Itachi took far too long to hold Shisui’s hand still long enough to even get the ring close. But finally, he held his hand up, admiring the silver band that reflected the moonlight. “Is yours the same?”

In lieu of replying, Itachi turned the shell around again to reveal his ring, holding it up for inspection. The outside was plain silver, but the inside of the ring had a pattern etched it into it. Shisui studied for a moment before realising he knew those shapes. “The peace lily?”

Itachi nodded. “The starting point.”

“The start of peace,” Shisui nodded, still reeling. “And this . . .? What is this now?”

Itachi’s dark eyes were beautifully sincere. The same absolute conviction behind everything he said was present, and he answered surely, “This is the start of our future.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, almost getting to the conclusion. Madara is back next chapter, and then things start winding down. Thank you to everyone for the support so far.


	37. 36 - The Rise of War

It was normal now, for Shisui to wake in the night to Itachi attempting to muffle the coughs that sprang up whenever he lay in a certain way. It was less normal to wake up from Itachi’s constant shifting and squirming. Shisui blinked his eyes open, because Itachi was not lying quietly next to him, but writhing slightly.

Shisui propped himself up on one elbow, watching Itachi try to find a comfortable position. He didn’t usually fuss like this, and it made Shisui nervous.

“You okay?” he ventured.

Itachi nodded, strained, with his eyes screwed closed and his bottom lip clenched between his teeth.

“Really? Because it looks like you’re having a heart attack.” Shisui was getting used to Itachi’s stubborn nonchalance about his health. It was best not to fuss and coddle, but to point out, as factually as possible, that Itachi was wrong.

“I’m not.” Itachi knew the difference; this was just biting, constant chest pain. He flopped onto his back, hoping for some sort of relief. It was not the best move, because his chest ached even more, and wet, raspy coughing began.

“Stop lying on your back,” Shisui ordered, pushing Itachi onto his side again.

The coughing sounded drier now, less persistent. Prying his eyes open, Itachi stared blankly ahead. “You can leave.”

“What?”

“I keep waking you up. You can leave, if you want to sleep.”

“Right, like I’m just going to leave you lying here, coughing up a lung and having a heart attack.”

“It’s not a heart attack.” Itachi tried to roll over to face Shisui, but Shisui blocked him from moving. Itachi lay still, curling in on himself, with the occasional harsh cough.

“I’m getting the painkillers.” Shisui threw back the covers and stood up.

“I don’t need them.”

“Tsunade prescribed them for a reason, Itachi, and it’s for when you can’t sleep because you’re in too much pain.” Shisui stalked out the room. When he returned, Itachi was no longer situated on the bed, and Shisui stomped into the bathroom to find him braced against the sink, head hanging, and blood splattered around him.

“Oh, look, you were right,” Shisui said sarcastically. “No one here coughing up blood and staggering in pain. My mistake.”

Itachi’s chuckle was accompanied by a spray of blood. “Don’t make me laugh.”

Shisui shook the little bottle of pills he was holding. “When you’re done. Please take two.”

“Half.”

“Two,” Shisui repeated stubbornly. “You won’t sleep if you only take half of one.”

“I’ll sleep too much,” Itachi argued. He eyed Shisui out the corner of his eye, one hand wiping blood from his chin. “You know I’m busy tomorrow.”

“It’s a meeting, not a mission. You can be a little dozy in a meeting.” Shisui pressed his palm flat between Itachi’s shoulder blades as the younger bent forward slightly to heave up more blood. The pressure usually helped cushion the rib-cracking spasms.

“You done?” he asked quietly, once Itachi had been standing for a few minutes without more coughing. Shisui hated how his breathing sounded after these episodes, there was a raspy whistle behind each inhalation. It went away after a while, but it still bothered him. It sounded painful.

Itachi nodded. He didn’t speak, concentrating on forcing air back into his lungs. The pain in his chest wouldn’t ease – it was frustrating, because he had been doing everything right, eating the right things, and resting when he needed, and taking a chemistry lab’s worth of pills. It was maddening that nothing seemed to make a difference anymore.

Shisui held two little pills out on his hand, and Itachi gave him a look.

“Take them both. I’ll wake you in the morning.”

“Tomorrow is important,” Itachi pointed out. “It’s the first meeting amongst the Kage’s. I’m there as a bodyguard – I can’t be under the influence of any sort of drug.”

“You’re there because it’s your little pet project,” Shisui said. “No threats are expected. Everything will be fine. Your Anbu are everywhere, and I’ll be right outside the door if you need me. You need to sleep.” Shisui made his point as logically as he could, but he knew it would come down to one thing only – Itachi’s stubbornness.

Would he be willing to forego being as razor sharp as usual, just for the brief comfort of a good night’s sleep?

Itachi was still giving Shisui a doubtful, sideways look. “Half,” he repeated firmly.

Shisui rolled his eyes. “If you cough once more-“

“I told you to sleep somewhere else.” Itachi argued weakly.

“Never gonna happen.” Shisui could be just as stubborn. He kept holding his hand out expectantly, and eventually, expression as dry and unamused as he could muster, Itachi took just one pill from Shisui’s hand. It was better than Shisui expected, and he looked somewhat smug. He stayed tactfully silent about it, though, tossing the second pill nonchalantly back into its bottle and waiting until Itachi turned to return to bed.

“Are you worried about tomorrow?” Shisui asked, watching as Itachi settled back into bed, shifting around until he could lie comfortably.

“Maybe.” The answer, of course, was ‘yes’.

“It’ll be fine.” Shisui lay down next to him. “You have everything prepared already.”

“We finish tomorrow,” Itachi whispered, snuggling into the warmth of Shisui’s body. “This is it. This is what we’ve been working for. All five villages are going to agree to peace. And then it’s done.”

“Yeah,” Shisui smiled into Itachi’s hair. “Hard to believe it’s almost over . . .” Almost a decade of Itachi’s relentlessness. It had been a dream that seemed impossibly out of reach; now suddenly it was well within grasp.

Itachi fumbled with one hand, trying to find Shisui’s in the dark. His fingers found the silver ring on Shisui’s left hand, and idly twisted it around and around. Shisui closed his eyes with a sigh. He was tired, and ready to sleep, and he drifted off long before Itachi did.

 

Itachi’s Anbu were dotted around the village, concentrated largely around the Hokage building in case they were needed in the conference room. Security was heavy, and there were scatterings of shinobi from the other countries as well. Unlike the Chuunin exams, there was very little tension between the villages. This was supposed to be a meeting of peace. The security was to prevent an external threat, not an internal one. It was merely for show; there was no threat expected.

Itachi and Sakura stood with Tsunade; Sakura had basically taken over Shizune’s position of Hokage’s assistant, and Itachi was the best body guard Tsunade could ask for, as well as a member of council and intimately acquainted with the peace accords – he had written them, and knew them better than anyone.

Itachi had been tight-lipped and pale so far, agonizing as the Kages deliberated. There was a dull ache in his chest which he knew was from stress, but it didn’t matter how often Tsunade had told him that there would be nothing to worry about, he was still concerned.

If something went wrong, if someone disagreed, if just one Kage declined to be peaceful allies . . . then years and years of fretting and worrying would have been for nothing.

Sakura sent him a look, mouthing, “Calm down.”

_Easy for you to say_ , he thought, somewhat grumpily. _You haven’t spent half your life waiting for this moment._

The fact that all five Kages were here was a good indicator that everything would be fine. If the villages weren’t interested in peace, they would never have agreed to meet up. But for some reason that wasn’t making Itachi feel any less on edge.

There was a lull in the proceedings, as the Tsuchikage and his advisor spoke quietly.

Tsunade took the opportunity to glance back in her seat at Itachi. “Still breathing?”

“Yes.” _Barely_.

She smiled at him, looking amused at his discomfort. “Who knew meetings were the thing that scared you.”

Itachi did not share her amusement. “Just focus. I’m fine.”

Tsunade turned back to the other Kages with a casual shrug.

The discussions continued. Itachi listened, taking his own mental notes, judging how easy it would be to get agreements from the other four Kages – Suna was a definite. Their young Kazekage was a good friend of Naruto’s, and Itachi had no doubt they would continue with their commitment to being the Leaf’s allies.

It was Mist that worried him. He studied their Mizukage closely, watching the way he spoke, listening to his nuances and little quirks, and trying to gauge how likely a peaceful alliance was with the country that had always been at odds with them.

He was quietly observing when he felt something.

There was a strange, nauseating swirl in the room, and Itachi snapped to attention, instantly alert. For a moment, he was uncertain. There was no way anyone could get into this room, because no one would be able to get through his Anbu and the collective security of five villages. It was impossible.

But whatever was happening before his very eyes was very clear – there was a person beginning to emerge from the dizzy swirl, as though space and time itself were being interrupted.

The masked man - _Madara!_ Itachi moved before Madara had fully formed, body moving instinctively to block Tsunade from any attack. It was a mere second, but a second was apparently all Madara needed.

Before Itachi could draw a weapon, before anyone could react, there was a powerful jolt, and suddenly everyone was still.

The entire room was locked in a genjutsu, everyone frozen in place, frozen in time. It was so powerful. How could he be able to immobilize every Kage, and every bodyguard, in just one jutsu?

Itachi’s eyes flashed red. The sudden focus sent a stabbing pain through his head, that travelled down his neck and settled in his chest, and _not now_ , he thought. He broke the illusion, he was the only one who could, and with his body suddenly his own again and he leapt to attack.

Madara turned the instant he moved, chakra flaring menacingly. Itachi’s attack did not get far. The pain in his chest peaked, heart stuttered, and he staggered slightly, vision swimming and body suddenly feeling languid, as though underwater. _Not now, not now_ , he thought desperately. His left arm wouldn’t move, and breathing was almost impossible, air sticking in his lungs.

The masked man flashed, impossibly fast, and the next instant Itachi was slammed into the wall with a hand around his neck, his right hand grappling weakly against Madara’s hold, the left shaking and numb. He couldn’t _breathe_ , chest tight and aching, and a breath finally escaped him in a sudden eruption of bright red blood.

“You should have killed Obito when you had the chance years ago,” Madara snarled. “Because you’re useless now. And I have my army, at the ready.”

Itachi’s Sharingan flickered, black red black red as his chakra control faltered. He flared his chakra, almost desperately, trying to signal for help.

“You all have two days,” Madara announced, looking around the room at the frozen faces of the shinobi present. His hold on Itachi’s neck did not loosen. “Two days to raise whatever allies you can. Then my army will attack, and destroy everything.”

He turned his attention back to Itachi. “I had everything all planned out. I had a way to take care of you, since you were the one who worried me the most. As is turns out, I needn’t have worried. You seem to have incapacitated yourself just fine on your own.” He let go suddenly, and Itachi fell to the floor in a crumpled heap.

His heart was beating hard, racing, trying to function, and it made him feel dizzy.

“It would be a pity if you missed the battle,” Madara said. “I’m sure your brother was looking forward to seeing you.”

Itachi tensed.

“He’s so easy to handle, compared to you. So easy to manipulate. I was lucky to get him. You, on the other hand, are much too difficult to deal with. I look forward to watching Sasuke kill you.”

“He won’t,” Itachi breathed, voice strained. He managed to sit up, back against the wall. He glared at Madara, fearless but helpless.

“Won’t he? Orochimaru’s hold over him is very powerful – and now so is mine. Sasuke is easy to control. He will do what he is told. That seal won’t allow for anything else.” Madara’s dark Sharingan eyes bored into Itachi. “I told you, your fears are the reason you will never win against me. And you fear losing your brother, above all else. I have him. He’s mine now. You _lost_ , Itachi. You lost him, and I will never let you take him back.”

Itachi’s eyes flashed red for a brief second, locked onto Madara’s.

“Two days, Itachi. Your world ends in two days.”

With a swirl, Madara was gone, and the illusion snapped away. Before anyone had a chance to move, the door to the conference room burst open, and Shisui was inside in an instant, appearing at Itachi’s side.

“Itachi!” He dropped to his knees, carefully easing Itachi mostly upright, one hand moving to the younger’s mouth to brush the blood there away. “You okay? I felt you. I came as fast as I could.”

“I’m fine,” Itachi said automatically. He still couldn’t move his left arm, but the pain in his chest was easing.

“You’re not fine.”

“If you weren’t going to believe me, then why did you bother asking?” Itachi leant his weight against Shisui, silently asking. Shisui stood up, lifting Itachi with him. He coughed again, more blood flying.

Tsunade was beside them now as well. “Itachi, slow down. Just breathe.”

“Do you think I’m not trying to?”

“Don’t sass me,” Tsunade snapped. “Gods, bloody Uchihas, always causing trouble. No other clan in the Leaf’s _history_ has caused as many problems as you monkeys.”

Shisui looked mildly offended at the moniker. “Hey!”

“I don’t care much for political correctness right now,” Tsunade muttered. “Sakura! Itachi’s your problem. Sort him out.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sakura said sharply. She ushered Itachi and Shisui out of the conference room.

Once silence had settled again, Tsunade turned to the assembled shinobi. “Well . . . I believe we have two days to do some strategizing.”

 

“You will not be fighting in two days,” Shisui muttered, standing anxiously at the side of the hospital bed while Sakura frowned over Itachi, chakra pulsing into his body.

“I’ll be fine,” Itachi said, sounding slightly strained. Sakura’s chakra felt like nauseating waves, and he was glad to be lying down already.

Both Sakura and Shisui gave him a look.

“You won’t be fine,” Sakura said. She was still manipulating chakra, and muttered under her breath, “Stubborn.”

“I need to be there . . . Sasuke will be there . . .”

“You will have all five Kage villages fighting for you,” Shisui said reasonably. “There’s no reason for you to strain yourself. I’ll be there, and your entire Anbu team.”

His body felt heavy. It was protesting the rough treatment it had received, and he blinked away exhaustion. He wondered if that was Sakura, trying to ease him into sleep. “You need Sugaru at the front . . . He won’t listen to anyone but me . . .”

“Okay. You’re still in charge, Mini Captain, and I’ll get everyone to listen to you.” Shisui said, trying to sound soothing. “But for now, you need to rest.”

“Need to plan,” Itachi murmured. Sleep was tugging at him, and he tried to fight it off. He wasn’t tired, and he had things he needed to do. “Can’t defeat Madara without me . . .”

Shisui nodded. When Itachi didn’t continue, but closed his eyes and lay still, Shisui sent a questioning look to Sakura.

“Put him to sleep,” she explained. “Otherwise he wouldn’t shut up.”

“You can do that?” Shisui looked quizzically at her. In hindsight, he should have activated his Sharingan the moment Itachi began talking slower.

“Yes.”

Shisui nodded. “Awesome.” He looked at Itachi, sleeping peacefully, while Sakura continued to flow chakra through him, doing whatever she was doing. The ability to get Itachi to sleep sounded indispensable. “Can you teach me?”

“Maybe after we’ve sorted out this mess with Madara.” Sakura was barely touching Itachi, but the outpouring of chakra looked forceful and crashing in intensity.

Shisui wondered if it hurt. “Is that painful?”

“A little bit,” Sakura said dismissively. “I’m trying to heal some of the damage to his lungs, but it’s difficult with him. Nothing we do seems to work long term.”

“Will he be okay?”

“As okay as he normally is.” Sakura’s violent flow of chakra began to slow slightly. “I’m almost done. I don’t think I can keep him asleep for long. He’ll figure it out too fast and break my hold.”

“Any sleep will help,” Shisui said. “He barely slept last night.”

“I thought we gave him something to help him sleep?”

“ _You_ get him to take it the day before something important, then,” Shisui grumbled.

Sakura nodded in understanding. She was about to step back when Itachi’s eyes flashed open.

“Oh. You’re awake.” Shisui traded glances with Sakura.

“I don’t appreciate being put to sleep without my consent,” Itachi said reproachfully. Sakura lifted one shoulder in a nonchalant, not in the least apologetic, shrug. “Shisui, gather the clan.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“Clan. Now.” Itachi was sitting up. Sakura backed off, expression stony. “And Kakashi.”

“Why Kakashi?” Shisui frowned.

“Because he knows Obito. And there’s a chance he can talk some sense into him. And if he can’t . . . I know he’ll do the right thing.”

 

“We have to assume that we are outclassed,” Itachi said. There was a token protest from the assembled Uchiha. “Obito and Madara have had years to perfect every technique they want. We know for a fact that they’ve been watching us, so we can assume every technique we have is already known by them, and they will have counter measures in place.”

He glanced at Kakashi, who stared back with a lazily raised eyebrow.

“I know it’s been many years since this clan fought as a whole. But we have before, and we will again. Whatever army there is out there, we will take it down. But the priority is taking down the two shinobi behind it. Because they are Uchiha, just as we are, and I will not let my clan, _my name_ , destroy this world.”

Itachi paused for breath. His chest was still feeling tight, but he had to admit whatever Sakura had been doing had helped. This was not the usual level of pain, this was just _there_ , and easy to ignore. “Sasuke is there as well. And we will bring him home.

“Everyone who is former Police Force knows a formation. Stick to it, use it, and watch out. Anyone else, you follow Shisui and Izumi.”

Izumi looked slightly surprised at that.

“I will focus on Sasuke first,” Itachi hesitated. “No one harms him. I know we’ve had a rocky history with the Leaf in the past, but this is our opportunity to resolve all of that. This clan belongs in the Leaf, and will defend it against any threat.”

“Itachi,” Izumi spoke up tentatively. “Do you really think I’m good enough to be in the front of the clan?”

“I do.” Itachi sounded convinced. “You and I have trained together enough. I believe in you. Now it’s your turn to show me what you’re made of.”

“ _What the hell_ , Itachi?”

Itachi turned his head to the door, surprised to hear Tsunade’s voice cutting through the silence. He raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“What are you doing?” Tsunade demanded, storming into the room.

“Briefing my clan.”

“You’re supposed to be in the hospital.”

Itachi sent her a flat look.

Tsunade sighed. “I know, that was stupid. You’re not going to sit around. Fine, then be useful. Help me convince the other villages we need to form an alliance, _now_ , to take down Madara.”

“Weren’t you doing that?” Itachi asked.

“I was. I took a break because Mist is a bunch of stuck up arseholes and Iwa are undecided. I thought you might make a difference. Come on, sort them out.” Tsunade looked at him grimly until he dismissed his clan and followed her out into the hallway.

“How?” he asked, head tilting to one side.

“Use all of your fabulous Uchiha charm.” Tsunade put a hand on his shoulder and started walking, pushing him firmly along with her. “If you can sweet talk Shisui into spending the rest of his life with you, you can convince five countries to murder a bastard.”

 

Resigned to more squabbling and debating, Tsunade let out a loud breath before she pushed the doors to the conference room open.

Itachi was about to follow, when Shisui stopped him.

“Itachi.”

Itachi turned around, surprised to see not just Shisui standing behind him, but Aruku as well. “Aruku. I didn’t know you were here.”

“I came through for the summit meetings.” Aruku replied in his soft and musical voice. “I have an interest in how these things work out, since I work primarily with the victims of war and assault. I wanted to be sure that I might not be needed so much in the future.”

“If Mist gives you any trouble,” Shisui said softly. “Open the door. We’ve got it covered.”

Itachi nodded shortly. He didn’t question them; he had things to take care of. Without a word, he stepped into the conference room.

There was non-stop talking happening inside, and Tsunade motioned him forward to the head of the table. He stood quietly, for a moment just listening.

To his right, Gaara spoke up, “Suna is with you.”

_We knew you would be_. Itachi had never doubted that Suna would stand beside them. Gaara and Naruto were too close to allow for any other decision.

The Tsuchikage was eying Gaara. Things between those two villages had been tense for generations. He spoke up, words carefully measured, “Do you really expect us to make such a big decision right now? This is something we need to think about.”

“We don’t have the luxury of time,” Itachi said. “Even if we did – why would you need it? You were considering signing a peace treaty across all five nations. Consider this the test run. We can work together, we can trust each other.”

“If you think everyone is needed to defeat just one man,” the Raikage weighed in, “Then I assume this man is definitely a threat?”

“He is a threat,” Tsunade said. “But he’s not alone. If there was a way for Konoha to do this alone, we would. But the only way to win is to stand together.”

The Raikage shrugged. “Sure. Why not. If we planned to stand together in peace, we can stand together in war, as well.”

Itachi suppressed a sigh of relief.

“This doesn’t mean we’re at peace,” the Tsuchikage said, sounding a bit grumpy. “But we will fight with you. We can re-evaluate this peace treaty afterwards.”

“Thank you.” Tsunade nodded, voice sincere.

The Mizukage was staring at Itachi, eyes narrowed. Itachi stared back, unintimidated. Suspicion and animosity ran rampant in Mist. They were known for brutality. Itachi didn’t expect them to give in easily; he expected them to stubbornly refuse an alliance. It was a surprise that they had even come for the summit.

“Why should we trust you? Why should we align with you?” the Mizukage asked, all confidence and surety. “Konoha has not been an ally for years. Our armies will be enough, without your help.”

“You’re wrong.” Itachi spoke plainly. “Madara’s army will tear down every defence you have. If we do not stand together, everyone will fall.”

“There are villages around us that will help.” Mizukage spoke confidently. “I can call upon them. We do not need you.”

“Don’t you?” Itachi’s eyes narrowed. “You think the smaller villages will come to your aid?” He glanced at Tsunade, and she wordlessly pushed a sheaf of papers towards the Mizukage. “Every village around you has sworn allegiance to Konoha. They will not come to your aid, if you are alone. They will all stand with me.”

A brief silence ensued. Finally, the Mizukage looked up. “How do I know you can be trusted? How do I know you’re not working with that masked man? He is Uchiha as well. All you scum belong together.”

Itachi’s eyes burned with the effort of holding his Sharingan back; it was an automatic response to want it, because it was always a part of every conflict he encountered. This was a different type of conflict, but the feeling was still powerful. He could not lose control. He needed the Mist.

_“If Mist gives you any trouble,” Shisui words rang in his mind, “Open the door. We’ve got it covered.”_

Itachi flared his chakra, signalling Shisui.

The doors opened, and Aruku and Shisui stepped inside. The Mizukage looked surprised. “Aruku? What are you doing here?”

“I will vouch for him,” Aruku said, voice smooth. “He is a good shinobi, and he speaks the truth. If Mist does not align with him, we are all doomed, and fools for ever believing we could stand alone.” He nodded at Itachi. “He is a good man. He means the Mist no harm.”

The Mizukage looked from Aruku to Itachi, and back again several times. He was clearly weighing his options, deciding on the validity of Madara’s threats and Itachi’s promises. Even so, he tried a last token protest.

“You are not the Hokage,” the Mizukage said, looking considerably smaller and less blusterous.

“No, he’s isn’t,” Tsunade spoke up. “But I am. And I would trust him with this village, with the whole world, without question. Itachi is more than just a shinobi here. And he has my permission to do whatever is needed.” She glanced at him, and Itachi remained impassive, waiting, and ready. “So tell me, will you stand with us?”

The Mizukage looked from Aruku, who nodded, to Tsunade, and to Itachi. He grunted. “It seems like a prudent decision to agree.”

Aruku looked relieved.

“Who are you, again?” He raised an eyebrow at Itachi, wondering at the shinobi who spoke for his Hokage, who seemed to have the blatant loyalty of the whole village.

“Uchiha Itachi,” he answered calmly.

“And if you only remember one name from this village,” Tsunade added. “It better be his.”


	38. 37 - Sounds of Silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a challenging chapter to write, which basically means I don't like it. Hopefully some of you can enjoy it.

“Inuzuka on the borders, securing a camp. Medical ninja concentrated in the centre, away from enemy fire. Nara at the front. Hyuuga on the sides. Konoha will stand central against Madara’s army, because we have the greatest numbers.

“Madara should not out number us, but we need to be prepared to be over powered,” Itachi had the head of every clan present. “Nara Shikaku has been appointed head of strategy, and everyone will defer to him and his orders. Shikamaru will be his second in command. The entire Uchiha clan has already received their orders and plan of action – along with Naruto and Kakashi, we will be taking down Obito. Half of Anbu is standing as back up for that task, and it will take everyone. Do not assume anything with these men, they will be stronger than anything you can imagine.

“Every squad must have a genjutsu user with them at all times – the illusions will hit fast, and hard. Once Obito has been eliminated the rest of the Uchiha clan will come to defend our forces against any further attacks. No matter what happens, no one will hurt my brother.” Itachi took a breath. Breathing hurt. “Sasuke will be out there, and he will be on the wrong side. But no one lays a hand on him.” Itachi glanced at Shisui. “There are strategies in place for subduing him. If he engages, you have permission to defend, but not to attack.”

Not even a murmur was heard, but there was consistent, sharp nodding.

“The other villages are sending help. But depending on how far away they are, we may start the battle alone. Just hold as best you can until we have what we need. We have one day to get into position. Let’s get it done.” With a nod, he stepped back.

The shinobi began to disperse, and Itachi rubbed his left shoulder uncomfortably. It was aching, a deep, dull pain that refused to go away. Sakura had wrapped it the best she could, and Itachi had been keeping it in a sling for the time being, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure on the joint, but so far it seemed like it wasn’t helping.

“Zo.” Itachi didn’t even look to know Zo would hear him. His Anbu had been hovering. Zo was behind him in less than a second. “You are officially in charge of Anbu whenever I am unavailable. Lead them well.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Sugaru.”

Within another second, the quiet, masked Anbu shinobi was at Itachi’s side.

“I need you at my back once we’re fighting,” Itachi said. “I need eyes, and ears, and someone to help defend. I will be Madara’s primary target, and we can use that to our advantage to keep his attention off the others. I want the fighting concentrated on me – minimum casualties.”

“Yes, Captain.” Sugaru nodded once, and flashed away.

Once the room was cleared of everyone but Itachi and Shisui, Itachi leant heavily against the wall, all pretence of strength fleeing. He closed his eyes, the pain in his arm almost overwhelming. He could feel every heartbeat in the palm of his hand.

“You’re not fighting.”

Itachi opened his eyes. “Shisui, there isn’t time for this again. I have an army to lead, and another army to defeat, and a brother to bring home.”

“And you can barely stand.” Shisui pointed out.

“Sakura has painkillers. I’ll get some now. I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll stay here,” Shisui said firmly. There was steel in his voice.

Itachi bristled. “I can’t ‘stay here’,” he snapped. “This is my fight, you need me there.”

“No, I need you alive, and that isn’t going to happen if Madara sees you.”

“Everyone _needs_ me-“

“I need you the most!” Something felt like it snapped inside Shisui’s chest, something sharp and piercing, and suddenly his throat felt tight, and his heart was beating, and he needed Itachi to understand this. “ _I need you_. And if you go out there . . . I’m going to lose you. There is no way Madara is going to let you walk away, and I cannot bring your body home. I can’t, okay? I’m not as strong as you, and I can’t do all the things you can. And I can’t risk saying goodbye, not yet, not now. Please, _please_ stay here where you’re safe. You can’t ask me to watch you fail, it’s too much.” His eyes were shining wet.

Itachi looked uncertain. “Sasuke will be there. I need to bring him home.”

“Naruto’s there, too, and that kid will do whatever you ask of him. Sasuke is as good as safe right now. But you’re not. Itachi, please, don’t make me beg. _Please_ ,” and now the tears spilled over, and Shisui squeezed his eyes closed. “This can’t be your last fight. This can’t be the last mission.”

“Madara will kill you, if I am not there,” Itachi pointed out. “That’s his goal – to kill _everyone_. You can’t measure my life against the whole world.”

“ _You are the whole world_.”

Itachi said nothing.

“You’re my whole world,” Shisui said desperately. “Can’t you see that? Can’t you see how much it hurts me when you say things like that? You know there is zero chance of you walking away from Madara. So don’t do it, don’t put yourself in that situation. Don’t force me to watch you die, because that’s the one thing I can’t take. It’s the one and only fear I have. I’ll fight this army, I’ll fight a thousand armies, and they can do what they like to me, but Itachi, please, don’t go out there.” Shisui tried to breathe around the lump in his throat.

He held up his left hand shakily. “See this? The ring you gave me. That’s a promise. A promise that we’ll have a future together. Don’t throw that away just for . . . just for . . .”

“Just for the whole world, and peace, and Sasuke?” Itachi finished quietly. “I can’t choose between you and everything else. All I can do is what feels right.”

“You won’t come home.” Shisui’s voice shook. “Please . . .”

“You want me to accept my limitations and just give up?” Itachi couldn’t fathom backing down. He couldn’t imagine not meeting this challenge head on, like every other. He couldn’t see a world that he didn’t do his best to defend. He wanted to protect it, and care for it, and . . . _Hokage_ . . .

“I want you to _think_ ,” Shisui said. “You _can’t_ do this, you just can’t-“

“There will not be two things in my life that I cannot do!” Itachi snapped, fury flaring. If he couldn’t be Hokage, if he had to have one facet of his dream destroyed and shattered, then fine. He could handle one. But not two. Not this as well.

“Two?” Shisui faltered.

“I will not give up two things,” Itachi said darkly. Shisui had no idea what the first thing was. “I will not fail twice.”

“You’ll die!”

“I’d rather die out there fighting than watching the world fall around me. What do you think will happen? If I’m not there, he will kill _everyone_ -“

“One person isn’t going to make a difference,” Shisui snarled.

“It will if it’s me!” Itachi shot back. “You’ve followed me this far, you’ve seen what I can do. You’ve seen me take on villages, take on the most elite shinobi. You know exactly what I’m capable of!”

“Not anymore! Not now,” Shisui’s anger was morphing into desperation. “You can’t do that anymore. You’re not strong enough. You’re not good enough.”

Itachi just stared at him, looking shocked.

Shisui suddenly realised what he had said. He paused, wishing desperately that he could backtrack. “I didn’t . . . mean that . . .”

“I think you did,” Itachi said quietly. “You don’t think I can do anything. You think I should have stopped months ago. Just because you’ve lost all your faith in me doesn’t mean I’ve lost it in myself-“

“I haven’t-“

“I’m not useless just yet,” Itachi snapped. “Even if you think I am. I am still the best this clan has ever seen – and it’s my life, my decision.”

“Itachi.” Tsunade interrupted them, standing in the doorway with her arms crossed and face set into a frown.

Itachi glanced back at her, anger and attention still focused on Shisui. “ _What_?”

“You will stay here.”

He turned then, fully ready to aim whatever fury he had at her. “I will not-“

“This isn’t up for debate, and you, of all people, would not disobey a direct order from your Hokage.” Tsunade’s voice sounded level, but there was no mistaking the tremor under it, carrying guilt, and apology, and pity. “I order you to remain in this village. Keep it safe. Keep it protected. Madara’s army has already been accounted for. We will not lose to him – and I will not lose _you_ to him. I don’t care how upset you are, you will stay here. We are not risking you.”

Itachi stood very still. The desire to argue was warring with the inbred inclination to do as he was commanded. “I can make a difference. It’s me he wants, if I’m there, he’ll target me, and everyone else will be safe.”

“And that’s exactly why you’re staying here,” Tsunade pointed out. “You’re not a match for him right now.”

Itachi hesitated. “I am.”

“No, Itachi-“

“This is what I am,” he snapped. “I am a shinobi of the Leaf – I am supposed to fight for it. I am supposed to protect it. This is my job, this is what we spend _entire lives_ training for.”

“It’s my duty to send in the best people for the job,” Tsunade said quietly. “Would you send someone into a war who you know will not come back? Would you send someone into battle whose health is failing? Would you?”

Itachi straightened up, looking Tsunade dead in the eye. “No. But as you have made perfectly clear; I’m not the Hokage.”

 

Shisui came home after dark, having spent hours discussing strategies, looking over Itachi’s notes on how Madara and Obito fought, and the notes he had on Sasuke’s cursed seal. Itachi had stormed home after fighting with Tsunade; she had been insistent, not giving in to any argument, and he would remain in Konoha while the battle against Madara raged.

Shisui had no doubt Itachi was still seething over the decision. They had had some sort of personal sounding screaming match over what it meant to be Hokage, but Shisui had tuned that out, too relieved to know Itachi would be safe.

“Hey.” Shisui greeted softly as he entered the dark kitchen.

Itachi glanced up at him, but didn’t move from where he was sitting, with his hands around a mug of tea, eyes down on the table.

“The first lot of shinobi have already moved out to meet Madara. The rest are leaving in the morning.”

“I thought you’d be with the first squad,” Itachi said softly, taking a sip of tea.

“I didn’t want to leave you.” Shisui sat down opposite him. “I certainly didn’t want to go out there without talking to you. Because I know you’re angry with me, and I didn’t want that to be the last thing between us. In case . . . I don’t come back.”

Itachi looked at him, dark eyes intense and focused. “You will.”

“You’re right, though. About Madara. He wants to target you first – and he’s already told you, more than once, how he plans to do that. He said he would take down your friends and family first – me, Sasuke, Izumi. Then the Leaf. Then the world. He has no intention of letting me live.”

“And you still think the best course of action is leaving me here while you go off to fight someone who purposefully wants you dead?” Itachi kept his tone carefully neutral, but there was barely concealed scorn behind his words.

“Yes.” Shisui answered without hesitation. “It is the best course of action. You’re safe here.”

“Until he defeats our entire army, and comes after me anyway.” Itachi took another sip of tea. “What difference does it make _when_ he faces me? He will; there is no scenario that doesn’t involve him trying to kill me. It’s what he wants.”

“I’ll take him down first,” Shisui said simply. “Before he can ever get near you.”

“You won’t finish that fight without me,” Itachi murmured, eyes down again.

“It’s a risk we are all willing to take.”

“I need to be there for Sasuke.”

“Sasuke’s got all his friends there. And Naruto will drag him back, kicking and screaming. There is nothing that kid won’t do for Sasuke. Whether you agree or not, the best place for you is here.” Shisui waited for Itachi to argue further. But there was silence that reigned between them instead.

It was late, and tomorrow was not going to be easy – nothing about the near future promised to be easy. Shisui was tired, of trying to figure out a strategy, tired of worrying over Itachi, tired of fighting.

“I’m going to bed,” he said, barely waiting for Itachi’s acknowledging nod before turning and trudging wearily out of the kitchen.

He was lying alone for a long time until Itachi came silently into the room, to lie beside him.

There was a terrifying silence hanging between them. Shisui stared blankly at the ceiling, with a feeling of dread settled in the pit of his stomach. If Madara was powerful enough to cast a genjutsu that locked every Kage still, what else was he capable of? Was there even a hope of defeating him? Sure, their numbers were strong, but what else did Madara have? What if this was the last night he would spend with Itachi? What if none of them ever returned home?

He had never been afraid before a mission before.

Itachi shifted slightly, head resting against Shisui’s shoulder, and moved one hand to lay flat against Shisui’s chest. Shisui didn’t move, just lay quietly, deep in thought. Itachi pressed his head a bit more insistently against him, nuzzling into him slightly, fingers sliding carefully down his chest.

Shisui swallowed hard, holding back a sudden swirl of emotions as Itachi continued to trace his familiar, gentle path. It was different this time, it felt different, because this was the first time Itachi wasn’t _watching_ , just feeling, with his face in the crook of Shisui’s neck, eyes hidden, and it hurt more than Shisui thought it would.

“Itachi-“

“Please don’t say anything. Please just let me have this.” His words were mumbled into skin, fingers pausing in their exploration.

Shisui lay quietly. He had so much he wanted to say, wanted to promise – _I’ll come home again. Everything will be fine. We’ve still got a future._

It was as Itachi’s thumb ran along Shisui’s wrist under the red ribbon that Shisui wanted to speak again – _Remember the first time you touched me like this? Remember the first time you really looked at me, like I was something special? I wish you were looking at me now._ “. . . Itachi?”

He didn’t lift his head, but entwined their fingers together and squeezed gently.

“It’s not good bye. This isn’t our last night together.”

“I know,” Itachi breathed against his neck. He pressed his lips softly to Shisui’s skin.

“I love you. More than anything. And I can’t stand the idea of Madara trying to take that from me. I want to protect you. That’s why I want you to stay here. That’s all . . . just because I’m not strong enough to lose you.”

“You once told me,” Itachi murmured, lips still against skin. “That nothing worth having comes easy.”

“And you were never easy. You’re difficult, and impossible, and stubborn, and so fucking gorgeous.”

“And?” Itachi lifted himself up slightly, looking earnestly into Shisui’s eyes.

“And worth every moment,” Shisui replied. “Now, can you promise me you’ll stay here?”

Itachi leaned down to kiss him tenderly, eyes sliding closed. “I’ll stay in the Leaf.”

There was a great sense of relief resonating throughout Shisui’s body. He sighed softly, some tension easing from his body. “Here, inside, safe.”

“In the Leaf,” Itachi repeated, silencing whatever Shisui was planning to say next with a long, slow kiss.

Shisui brought his free hand up to tangle in Itachi’s hair, holding him gently in place, because he wanted this to last. He wanted the night to last forever, for morning to never find them. “I love you,” he said, wholly sincere, when Itachi broke them apart.

Itachi leant his forehead against Shisui’s in reply, eyes closing and a genuine smile tugging at his lips. Without a word, he hooked a leg over Shisui’s hip, pulling them flush against each other. His hand wandered, up Shisui’s side, down his back, ghosting over the little dip there, but for once not pressing down. Just feeling, and Shisui wanted more than just feeling. He wanted seeing, and passion, and forgetting that tomorrow had to come eventually.

“Look at me,” he breathed eventually, and Itachi snapped his eyes to Shisui’s questioningly. “I didn’t mean what I said earlier. About you not being good enough. Because you are, there’s no one like you, never will be. I was just . . . scared . . . that you would choose to save the world over yourself.”

Itachi stayed quiet.

“The world isn’t worth anything if you’re not in it,” Shisui murmured.

Itachi’s gaze dropped down slightly, but he kept Shisui held firmly against his body. There was a lot more Shisui wanted to say, and promise, but Itachi kept him silent with long kisses, and Shisui knew that was Itachi’s way of saying everything he wanted to say.

Because Itachi didn’t use words to express what he needed; he used actions, he did things, and asking him to do nothing, to wait, to sit back and let someone else take over, that was the hardest thing Shisui and Konoha would ever ask of him. So Shisui stayed quiet as the night wore on, and kisses became increasingly sleepy, touches slowed, because the silence belonged to Itachi.

They fell asleep tangled together, with one of Itachi’s fingers curled through the red ribbon around Shisui’s wrist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There may be a longer gap between this chapter and the next than usual, because I need to write almost the whole fight against Madara and co before I can divide it into chapters effectively. There's a lot of loose ends to tie up, but hopefully it will only be 3-4 chapters long. Mostly because I am merrily discarding massive plot points from the anime because I don't have the time, inclination, or dedication to rewrite the entire plot of Naruto. So in about week we will start the watered down, heavily edited, hopefully not too boring Fourth Shinobi War.


	39. 38 - The Battle Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I find fight scenes outrageously tedious, and this whole battle has been edited to death, so I think it's really, really boring. Bear with me, it's only three chapters. Also, it turns out, listening to Disturbed when writing fight scenes results in writing absolute rubbish that makes no sense whatsoever, but it was very inspiring.
> 
> Because of the fact that I'm not writing a twelve million page story, the following key elements from the anime have been happily ignored; tailed beasts, Kaguya, Edo Tensei, and basically everything else. We are winging it from here on out.

Izumi was waiting for Shisui at the gates to Konoha. The rest of the clan had already gone ahead to the battle ground. Shisui knew he was late. He hadn’t wanted to leave in the morning, not with the way Itachi lay and watched him, not saying a word.

There wasn’t anything he could do now. His thumb moved the silver ring on his finger, twisting it round and round. He looked back into Konoha, at the streets far too empty, a village so quiet and depleted of so many citizens. How many would come home again?

He thought of Itachi, waiting alone, and he knew he needed to leave now, before the strength and resolve to do so left him.

“Let’s go,” he murmured, turning away, taking to the trees in a single, powerful leap. Izumi was at his side, face hardened into a serious frown. Neither of them looked back.

 

Finding the camp was easy enough. It sprawled out, and was densely packed. The five Kages were knotted in the centre.

Shisui did a quick run through, familiarizing himself with everything. He needed to know where the medical tents were – Sakura was set up and ready as close to the front of the camp as possible, her team briefed, prepped, and labelled as first responders – and get an idea of the borders of the camp.

The ground was uneven and variegated, with patches of grass, rock, dirt, trees and bushes springing up at random. It would provide cover if needed, which was both a good and a bad thing. The more open areas were where Shisui wanted to be, without the danger of shunshin hurtling him into a tree if he miscalculated a distance.

So far, although there were drabbles of shinobi from all five villages, the full extent of their forces had not arrived. Shisui could not feel Madara close yet, and he knew he would be able. The man’s chakra was unmistakable. The main thought weighing in Shisui’s mind was – what was Madara’s army made of? Surely there weren’t enough missing nin to warrant an attack on all five countries?

Sugaru was watching him from a distance, and Shisui threw him an annoyed look. One day, he would find out why that man made his stomach twist the way he did; Itachi seemed unaffected and even afforded the mysterious ninja great levels of trust. Maybe it was all in Shisui’s head.

The air around them was tense, with everyone waiting. They had blocked the path towards Konoha, the most likely place Madara would attack from. The cover of trees was behind them, the vast expanse of land ahead would provide a good view of Madara’s approach.

They were as prepared as they could be. Nervously, Shisui fidgeted with the red ribbon around his wrist. It was fading and fraying by now, stained by countless missions. He let out a tense breath. There was nothing to do but wait.

 

Itachi was restless.

He moved around the empty house, edgy and tense, looking for something to occupy his time with. There was nothing; just endless empty rooms and a feeling of dread that settled all around him like a blanket.

Staying in Konoha was not an option. He couldn’t stand by and wait.

He couldn’t disobey. He couldn’t go against a direct order from his Hokage.

He couldn’t do _nothing_ , and he couldn’t do _something_.

His left arm was shaking again, and it bothered him. Everything bothered him, because he wasn’t used to being helpless. He wasn’t used to sitting and waiting while the world spun on without him.

And he wasn’t going to start getting used to it now.

 _Do the right thing_. He had always been told that. Knowing what the right thing was, that was the only real challenge in life. But here, the answer was clear. The right thing was to defeat Obito and Madara, to bring his brother home safely, to protect his village. The right thing was doing something, making a decision, even if that meant breaking rules, breaking orders.

He found himself in the kitchen, standing next to the peace lily. It was basking in the sunshine, healthy and alive and full of flowers.

_Do the right thing._

The right thing was to stay home, because Shisui was terrified that he wouldn’t stand up to combat.

The right thing was to stay where he was, because he was under direct orders from his Hokage.

The right thing was to join that battle, because no one else was able to immobilise Madara.

He closed one hand around the shell around his neck, thumb sliding into the back and feeling the ring still tied securely there. He rubbed gently at the lily pattern etched into the metal.

With a sigh, he closed his eyes. He could still feel the sheer power Madara exuded; could feel the shiver of chakra. He knew how to fight him. He knew how to help Sasuke – no one else knew how. Shisui had read his notes, but it wasn’t the same thing. Would Shisui be able to help? Would anyone be able to help?

It would take more than force to overcome Madara. And Itachi was ready; his plan already set. He ran his fingers over the long green leaves of the lily. This was his little bit of peace – and he wanted a whole world of it. That would never happen if he was standing around twiddling his thumbs while a war raged around him.

His mind was half made up, indecision warring within his head. He cupped one flower.

Do the right thing.

Peace wasn’t going to come to him. He had to chase it.

 

Shisui was having a nap, sprawled across Izumi’s legs as she counted and sharpened kunai, trying to catch some sleep before Madara launched his attack. There had been shinobi arriving at the battlegrounds consistently, and the camp had a constant murmur of voices. He was pulled from sleep when Izumi tapped his shoulder.

“Hm?” he sat up, blinking blearily.

“Do you feel that?” she asked, and as she did there was a hush that fell over the entire camp.

Not a sound came from anyone, every ninja standing frozen in place. Then Shisui could feel it, a rumble of chakra, a ripple that could almost be seen through the air. He scrambled to his feet. He knew that feeling. He knew that sick sense of terror that floated with it.

“That’s him.” Shisui was at the front of the camp in less than a second, flickering to Shikaku’s side.

The head of the Nara clan was looking grimly over the landscape before them. Large numbers of jounin surrounded him, and since the silence had fallen, the Kages had been moving forward to see what the cause of distress was.

In the distance, there was a mass of bodies approaching. Shisui narrowed his eyes.

“What are those?” Izumi’s voice shook slightly, coming to stand at Shisui’s side.

Shisui stared at the sight before him. “I have no idea.”

There were thousands, a huge wave of distorted bodies – they looked like white ghosts, hundreds and hundreds of the same person just replicated, over and over again- stretching out across the landscape. And at the very back of the army, chakra able to be felt even at such a distance, was Madara. There were two other chakra signatures by his side. Shisui knew the first was Obito. The second felt like Sasuke – slightly different to how he used to feel. There was no childish innocence there, no happily flickering chakra. This was a different Sasuke. Older, bolder, and far, far stronger.

Nara Shikaku came to Shisui’s side. “We’re going to start strategizing and getting everyone into position. I hear your orders are to get your clan to the other side of this army, and take on Obito?”

“Yes.”

“Be careful. Wouldn’t want to lose you all at once.”

Shisui snorted. “Yeah, like one shinobi could take out the whole Uchiha clan at once. Don’t be ridiculous.”

He was counting numbers – fifty thousand? A hundred thousand? - and suddenly realised that their army was hopelessly overwhelmed. It would take more than a miracle to save them. He had a sinking feeling that he would not get home to Itachi, that last night had been their final good bye.

What was Madara’s army made of? Were those shinobi? Were those even human? The fact that Shisui had no idea what he was fighting against was terrifying. Shadow clones? Some other sort of clone? Did they even need to breathe, or sleep, or rest?

“There are too many,” Izumi blanched.

“Yeah.” Shisui glanced back. Their allied numbers weren’t even close. Not yet, anyway, with the villages further away still making the journey to reach them. Could they hold it together until help arrived?

They didn’t have a choice. It was fight, and survive, or die. Shisui would only accept one outcome.

 

It did not take long to discover that Madara’s army did not tire. They attacked furiously, seemingly immune to exhaustion. And for every one they cut down, there seemed to forever be more.

Shisui and Naruto had fallen into rhythm together; Shisui’s speed and Naruto’s immense chakra reserves and hundreds of shadow clones had proven to be an effective combination.

Shisui was well aware that he was supposed to be battering his way to Obito, but so far their path was blocked by thousands and thousands of white disfigured bodies, and there was no way through or around with numbers as great as they were. Far across the battlefield, Madara, Obito and Sasuke stood unmoving. Shisui guessed they weren’t going to bother to exert themselves if unnecessary; if Madara’s army could obliterate the allied shinobi, there was no reason to join the battle.

Either that, or they were waiting for Itachi. Shisui knew Madara wanted Sasuke to fight him. There was a tense shiver down Shisui’s spine. What if Itachi had been right? What if Madara’s army did destroy everyone, and Madara moved towards Konoha and attacked Itachi when he was alone?

 _No_ , he thought, grimly. He leapt to a good vantage point atop a misshapen boulder. _We have to win._ _We have to stop him making more of these things . . ._ The source was within the cover of the forest, close to Madara, but far away enough to have gone largely unnoticed.

“He’s still making more.” Naruto joined him on the rock, looking flushed.

“It’s over in the trees. Whatever that is.” Shisui had his gaze locked onto the strange looking shinobi. “We don’t stand a chance if he’s still there, creating more of these things. We need to stop him,” Shisui said breathlessly. “We can’t keep fighting like this, we’re not even making a dent in his numbers.”

“What do you want me to do?” Naruto asked boldly. His eyes were on Sasuke, who had so far not moved into the battle, but stood steadfast at Madara’s side in the distance. Was he waiting for Itachi?

“Get some friends,” Shisui said grimly. “Get to the source. Eliminate it.”

“I am on it!” Naruto flashed a brilliant smile and disappeared from sight.

Shisui needed a breather. He flickered to the edge of the battlefield, his back to a small rise in the earth. He kept watching, looking for weaknesses, looking for any indicators as to what would be the most effective method of attack.

Sugaru flashed to his side, and Shisui let out an undignified yelp. He hated that man; he was creepy, and weird, and Shisui didn’t know how Itachi could stand working so closely to him.

“Shinobi have arrived,” Sugaru said plainly.

Maybe Itachi could understand Sugaru’s bland and uninformative way of talking, but Shisui was lost. “What?”

Sugaru indicated to the rise behind Shisui, and Shisui turned around. A small knot of shinobi were approaching. Shisui didn’t even recognise the symbols on their forehead protectors. Where on earth were they from?

The ninja at the front came confidently up to Shisui. “Uchiha Itachi asked us to come and assist in his war.”

 _All twelve of you?_ “Thanks,” Shisui said, taken somewhat by surprise. “We’re a bit outnumbered here.”

The ninja nodded once. “We met up with a few more villages along the way. I would estimate there are about five thousand of us, now.” He gestured behind him, and Shisui blinked. There were more shinobi appearing over the rise, a thick crowd.

Shisui grinned. _Damn, Itachi. Any other tricks up your sleeve?_ “Well . . . That’ll help. Thank you for coming.” Feeling more relieved, he reached his hand up to run it through his air, parting the sweaty locks.

The ninja in front of him suddenly smiled. “Are you . . . Shisui, by any chance?”

“Yes.” Shisui blinked. “How’d you know?”

“My name is Gin.” He indicated to Shisui’s left hand. “I made your ring.”

“Oh.” Automatically, Shisui held his hand up, looking at the silver ring. “Um . . . cool . . .”

“Itachi spoke very highly of you.” Gin gave a shallow bow. “It would be an honour to fight at your side.”

“We’d appreciate the help.” Shisui looked back at the battlefield. “Be careful. Whatever you think you’re up against, I can promise you it’s worse.”

Gin nodded once. “If Itachi is asking for help,” he spoke in a measured tone of voice, “Then it is something to be feared, because he had my whole village immobilized in one move.”

That was a story Shisui hadn’t heard, and it sounded as though he wanted to – certainly, he wanted to know how Itachi had gone from opposing the entire village to spending a mini holiday there drinking tea and making jewellery.

Questions for later; for now, Shisui looked at the thousands of ninja preparing to join the battle, and felt a hot surge of pride towards Itachi. _You probably just saved our lives, Itachi._

He slid the ring around his finger with the tip of his thumb. _You’ve got the whole world at your side – just like you wanted._

With renewed fervour, he jumped back into the fray.

 

Shisui discovered, rather unsettlingly, that Madara’s faceless army could mould themselves together, four or five at a time, into hideous monsters that loomed above him. He didn’t know if it was a coincidence that several converged on him at once, or if Madara had actively encouraged them to single him out, but he did know that he would be lucky to last longer than a second with every path blocked, weird disfigured hands pulling at him, and he could feel the monsters almost tearing his chakra from his body.

He couldn’t flicker to safety. He couldn’t get both hands free at once to form seals. He couldn’t reach any weapons. There was a particularly sharp biting pain in one leg, then he saw a flash of blood, and he fell to the ground with a heavy thump, too exhausted to catch himself.

Dazed, he lay on the dirt, watching Gin flash around. He knew the village Gin was from specialised in metal work, and it was incredible watching Gin move, with a seemingly endless array of specially shaped weapons, cutting things down, blocking paths, knocking knives off each other to create a whirlwind of safe space. His fluidity was impressive, and within minutes there was a small circle of decimated body parts around Shisui.

“Are you okay?” Gin asked, sounding only mildly winded. He reached a hand out to pull Shisui to his feet.

“Just exhausted,” Shisui replied. “I’ll live.” _Maybe._

He was still working to catch his breath, feeling utterly overwhelmed. There was a powerful jolt from the other side of the battlefield – it felt like Madara, and Shisui snapped his head in that direction, checking if Madara had moved.

He was still in the same position, overlooking the raging battle between his army and the alliance of shinobi.

There was a sudden pop of smoke, and Naruto appeared. “Done! We got rid of that weird Aloe Vera guy making all these clones.”

“Good job,” Shisui said, and Naruto grinned broadly. “Now the numbers will stay the same.”

There was a rumble, and the earth shook. For a moment, everyone was slightly off balance.

“It’s just Gaara,” Naruto said reassuringly.

“I’m glad he’s on our side.” Shisui glanced around, flaring chakra to do a headcount. He had been keeping a close eye on the three Uchiha at the back of the army. Since Naruto’s spontaneous team had taken out Zetsu, he had been able to feel Madara’s trembling ire.

Shisui didn’t think it would be long before he attacked, although so far he seemed content to let his army whittle down their numbers, take the edge off their endurance and stamina, test their strength and resolve. The hours had been ticking by, and while Itachi’s reinforcements had helped take the pressure off, they were still outnumbered, and unable to rest or recover.

If Madara stepped in, there was no question how the battle would end.

Nightfall was coming fast, and there would be no chance of rest.

“You look tired,” Naruto remarked.

“Can’t stop,” Shisui said grimly. “None of us can.”

“I’m with you.” Naruto was still bouncing, still energetic. Shisui wished he shared the same enthusiasm and seemingly endless stamina. “We’ve got a fight to win.”

“That’s the spirit,” Shisui muttered. He took a deep breath, gathering energy to continue fighting.

Naruto looked sideways at him. It was a strangely tender looking gesture. He spoke solemnly, “Don’t get killed.”

“Yeah, I’m not dying,” Shisui said with a determined frown. “I’ve got someone waiting at home for me.”


	40. 39 - Brothers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tonight on "Author Has No Idea What She Is Doing":

The final reinforcements from the other villages arrived shortly after dawn the next morning. Amongst the five Kage villages’ shinobi were more smaller villages, all answering whatever call Itachi had sent out.

Shisui didn’t think he had ever been prouder.

With the added help, things were turning, slowly, in their favour. Still outnumbered almost two to one, they were whittling down numbers, and the medical teams were indispensable, healing and sending shinobi back out into the field at an impressive rate.

The change in odds was being noticed.

“Obito’s moving,” Shisui said, leaning forwards slightly in anticipation. He was at the edge of the camp, looking out at Madara and Obito. “So is Sasuke. This is getting real now. This is what we’ve been waiting for.”

“I want to talk to Sasuke,” Naruto stood resolutely at Shisui’s side.

“We’ve got Obito,” Kakashi said, looking grim. Izumi stood at his right, with the clan scattered behind her.

“If you want to focus on Sasuke,” Izumi said, “I’ll lead the clan against Obito.” It was no small task, and Shisui was impressed by her determination. He nodded at her once, and within a few long leaps Kakashi, Izumi, and the rest of the Uchiha clan were moving swiftly across the battlefield towards Obito.

Shisui locked his eyes onto Sasuke.

“I want to talk to him,” Naruto repeated firmly, still at Shisui’s side. He looked grimy with dirt, sweat streaking his face, but he was stanch, sincere, and looking at Shisui imploringly. “He’s my friend, and I promised-“

“I know,” Shisui said. “I know. But you’re needed here, more. Madara and Obito are not easy to defeat. You have an advantage, you have massive reserves of chakra. Hold them off, I will talk to Sasuke. Follow the plan.”

Naruto looked set to argue. He glanced in Sasuke’s direction, then back at the forces aligned behind them. He nodded. “Okay. But just for a while.”

“I’ll call if I need you,” Shisui assured him, and Naruto looked satisfied with that. Shisui patted him on the shoulder, then flickered away.

He reappeared close to Sasuke. “Sasuke!”

Sasuke had been standing perfectly still, not engaging, just observing, a slight distance away from Madara and Obito. Now that the Uchiha clan had moved into position, Obito had leapt towards them, and Madara’s attention was on the battle. Turning away from the fighting in front of him, Sasuke narrowed his eyes at Shisui. He looked unlike Shisui remembered him, no longer Itachi’s little baby brother. He looked weary and battle hardened.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Sasuke said coldly.

“Get a grip, Sasuke,” Shisui snapped. “Get your head out of your arse for five minutes and look around you. Do you know what you’re doing? Do you know what Madara and Obito are going to do to you – to everyone?”

“I don’t need your counsel, Shisui. I can make my own decisions.” Sasuke looked set to turn away, but Shisui’s harsh tone stopped him.

“No, you can’t. You’re a stupid egotistical idiot, and you need some sense knocked into you. And they’re not your decisions anyway; Madara is controlling you, just like he’s controlling Obito. You’re stronger than that, and better than that. So snap out of it!”

Sasuke’s expression was blank.

Shisui didn’t think his words were penetrating. He wasn’t sure if a good smack in the head would help, but he was more than willing to try.

“I don’t need to fight you,” Sasuke said slowly. “You don’t interest me right now.”

“Well I’m all you’ve got, so get interested.”

“You are not who I’m supposed to fight.”

“Itachi’s not coming, so it’s me or nothing. I’ll beat some sense into you, and then we’ll see what happens.”

For a while, there was silence. Sasuke looked at him, and Shisui could feel him trying to do something. To break Madara’s hold, perhaps? To go against orders and fight Shisui? Shisui was ready to make the first move. He could incapacitate Sasuke, and restrain him, and everything would be fine. Once Sasuke was sorted, Shisui had other places to be.

But suddenly Sasuke stiffened, looking past Shisui, and Shisui felt his heart drop at the familiar feeling of chakra behind him.

_Please, no_ , he thought. _Please, god, no._

He was almost afraid to turn around. But he forced himself to, feeling his heart almost break in two as he saw Itachi standing there, looking at Sasuke. In full Anbu battle gear, with his injured arm wrapped firmly for support.

_Gods, no, Itachi, don’t._

Sasuke didn’t move at first, apparently as surprised as Shisui.

Itachi did not look at all hostile, just sad, Sharingan shining and watching. “I’m here, Sasuke. You wanted a fight, I’ll give it to you. But the whole world doesn’t deserve to suffer for this.”

“Itachi, what are you doing here?” Shisui asked, colour draining from his face.

“It’s not your fight, Shisui,” Itachi never took his eyes off his brother. “Go help the others. I’ve got Sasuke.”

“I won’t leave you.”

“It wasn’t a request, it was an order,” Itachi was still quiet, still calm.

“Itachi-“

“Leave, now,” Itachi ordered sharply. “This is a warzone, Shisui. You _will_ obey the command of a superior ranked shinobi.”

There would be time for fighting later. Right now, every second had a sense of urgency to it. Livid and seething, terrified and longing to remain, Shisui flickered away without further argument, leaving the brothers face to face.

Itachi did not make a move to attack. “I know you’re in there, Sasuke. Maybe you’re listening. Even if you’re not, I promise you, I will get you home safely. I will bring you back.”

The seal on Sasuke’s neck burned, and the whisper in his mind became a full-fledged shriek. _Fight him, kill him, he’s lying!_

“I’m not going to hurt you. Not if I can help it, never again.” He sighed. “If you want to fight me, then fight me. No matter what you choose, I’ll take you home.”

_Wait._ Sasuke tried to fight back against the seal. _I don’t want to fight him. I don’t want to kill him._

The seal forced down every thought Sasuke had. _Kill him, now! Attack, now!_

For one tense moment, Sasuke didn’t move. Then he was flying at Itachi, violent and enraged, Sharingan blazing.

 

Shisui did not join his clan immediately. He threw himself into Madara’s army, fighting violently. He had a lot of emotion to get out, too much anger and fear. He was a whirlwind, cutting down everything in his way, throwing weapons and fire with deadly precision.

He kept half an eye on Itachi and Sasuke, trying to monitor what was happening, trying not to flinch every time Sasuke threw an attack – Itachi looked like he was coping. It looked like he was managing. But Shisui wanted to be there, wanted to be helping. He was distracted for a moment when he felt Itachi’s chakra flicker – pain, or exhaustion, or overexertion? – and a clump of Madara’s soldiers knocked him off his feet and dived upon him.

He flickered away, lighting them up with a Katon fireball. He was supposed to be with his clan, following Itachi’s plan. Maybe, if they defeated Obito fast enough, Shisui could re-join Itachi and help him. He was at Izumi’s side in mere seconds, skidding to a halt beside her with a scuff of dirt.

He was just in time to see Kakashi’s blazing chidori plunge into Obito’s chest.

Madara’s attention finally turned to them.

“Ready for more?” Shisui asked, pulling a kunai out.

“Yeah.” Izumi was steady at his side, looking winded but determined.

Kakashi stepped back, eyes cast down. Shisui didn’t want to know what thoughts were running through his head right now. It had to be painful, probably something Kakashi never wanted to share, or experience.

Obito staggered a few steps, blood pouring from the wound. There was a gaping hole in his chest. He stumbled towards Madara, maybe seeking help. Shisui was out of ear shot of him, eyes flicking nervously between Obito and Madara.

Madara looked down at Obito, assessing the loss of blood, the huge wound. His expression closed down into a frown, and he made a small motion with one arm.

Shisui couldn’t even follow Madara’s attack. All he knew was there was a jolt through the air, and then in the next instant Obito was torn in half, taken by surprise – there was a spray of blood, not even a sound, and then Madara was looking away, disinterested.

Madara’s gaze locked onto Shisui, and his face twisted into a cruel smile. Shisui paused, suddenly tense. He felt distinctly singled out. For a small moment, nothing happened, although Shisui felt anticipation shiver through the air.

Then Madara moved, eyes staying on him, swinging one arm towards the ground. Shisui’s bright Sharingan eyes saw the massive outpouring of chakra, and he braced for whatever attack was coming. It was so clearly aimed at him – Madara’s fixation on him was slightly nauseating, and Shisui didn’t have long to wonder what would happen.

The ground beneath him ripped apart, the force of the explosion overwhelming everyone nearby. Shisui tried to steady himself, but the shuddering ground, laced with power and chakra, shot tremors through his body. As the ground erupted, he was flung into the air, sent flying at almost impossible speeds.

He tried to twist his body into a better position to land, but he felt exhausted. He was drained, and his eyes were aching. Madara’s attack had scrambled his chakra patterns, and Shisui couldn’t get a grip on himself, couldn’t steady his body, couldn’t twist into a safer position. The ground was rushing to him now, faster than it should be, and his ricocheting thoughts could only just stay with him.

There was no way to catch himself in time. Shisui braced for impact, feeling like he was falling too fast, too hard, and wildly out of control. He hit the ground with a sickening crunch, trying to cushion himself with chakra. He knew it wouldn’t be enough.

The pain started in one elbow, rocketing up his arm, into his shoulder, blooming across his back and neck, and he felt something in his body shift. It was subtle, but noticeable.

And then he started screaming in absolute agony, feeling like his back was on fire. The same spot, the one part of his body that was weaker than the rest, the little dip in his back feeling like it had been snapped off. Lightning bolts of pure anguish shot through him, his whole body burning with a pain he had never felt before, beyond anything he could ever imagine.

It was as he drew in breath to scream again, unable to do anything more than that, that he realised it wasn’t his whole body on fire. His legs felt numb.

And they wouldn’t move.

 

Shisui blinked into awareness again, his first thought; _When did I pass out?_

His eyes took a moment to focus, blurry and aching, and he saw Sharingan gazing down at him. His heart jumped, mind immediately reaching one hopeful conclusion: _Itachi!_

But the moment passed, and it was Izumi looking at him with her forehead creased in worry, her mouth was moving but Shisui couldn’t hear any words. His ears were roaring, he didn’t know if it was the blood rushing through his body, or his chakra screaming because something wasn’t right. Belatedly, he realised Izumi had one of his hands gripped in hers, squeezing it at intervals.

He squeezed back, guessing she was trying to speak to him. To reach him through the fog of pain in his head. It wasn’t as bad as he remembered. Perplexed, he strained to look down at his body, finding it difficult as he was lying on his back.

He saw a tinge of pink, and let out a sigh. Sakura. That explained the loss of deadly pain.

“Can you hear me?” Izumi asked, sounding worried.

He nodded.

“Shisui,” Sakura spoke, her voice serious. “I need you to tell me if anything hurts.”

“Everything hurts,” he croaked, voice feeling raw. Too much screaming, he guessed.

“Everything?”

“Yeah. Everything.” His grip on Izumi’s hand tightened exponentially as a prickle of sensation returned to his right leg, sending another spike of pain shooting through him.

“Can you feel anything in your legs?”

“I . . . Kinda . . . I . . .”

“Shisui, I need an answer,” Sakura demanded. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s damaged.”

“I can’t feel anything,” he said. The spike of pain was retreating.

Sakura’s expression darkened. “I’m going to stabilise your spine until we can get you home. You’re not going to move, at all, I don’t know if that will make anything worse. I need you to stay conscious, I need you to tell me if anything changes.”

He nodded, feeling dazed. He stared blankly at the sky, hardly feeling anything at all. He knew there were other shinobi with Sakura, he could feel their chakra flowing around him, through him. Then there was an unsettling, paralysing jolt, and his hand released Izumi’s and fell limply. He panicked for a moment, before Sakura spoke.

“It’s alright, that was me. I’m holding your body still. I will release it once we’re back in the hospital.”

“Itachi?” he asked hoarsely.

Izumi sent a tremulous look over her shoulder. Sakura’s frown deepened. “I cannot get between them right now. Itachi is still fighting.”

“He needs help.”

“So do you.” Sakura looked worn and exhausted. Shisui hadn’t considered how hard this must be for her – she had strong feelings for Sasuke, everyone knew that. “We need to get you somewhere safe. You’re done with this fight.”

“Itachi needs me.”

“You can’t move,” Sakura snapped. “I know exactly what you’re going through, but you cannot help him now. We’re getting you to the medical base, and you will stay there.”

“But Itachi . . .”

“Then get up and walk away from me,” Sakura retorted.

Shisui had to admit defeat then. He couldn’t move.

He could do nothing.

Itachi was alone on the battlefield.

Dying, and alone.

 

The explosion and resulting dust cloud had obscured the battleground enough for Itachi to lose sight of Sasuke. Within the settling dust, he had been able to pick out the glow of Sasuke’s chakra, and analysed the attack his brother was preparing.

It was not one he wanted to be within range of.

Sasuke brought a barrage of lightning down, each bolt perfectly accurate and unable to be dodged. There was nowhere for Itachi to go, fast as he was, because there was no way to avoid the endless lightning storm. It was pure luck that he had already divided into several shadow clones, and they took the attacks, each one dissolving into a crackle of blue electricity and smoke.

Itachi had taken the opportunity to flash away once Sasuke began preparing his attack, knowing he wasn’t able to avoid it, and unwilling to take the risk. He was several metres away, forcing air into his lungs, and keeping himself as protected as he could. Now was not a great time to be straining for air, but he couldn’t help it.

He wished he had brought extra medication with him. Maybe it would help.

A second lightning storm began, striking into the ground frighteningly close by.

_Don’t be stupid, Sasuke_ , Itachi thought grimly. _You don’t have the chakra to do this twice_. He kept his back against a rock, breathing hard. There was a blue flash right next to him, one randomly striking bolt almost hitting its target, and Itachi knew he couldn’t hide for much longer.

Sasuke had forgone finesse for violently hurling lightning everywhere, obviously in the hope that at least one bolt would hit its mark. They were losing intensity and power, and Itachi’s red eyes kept watching, waiting, analysing, until he was absolutely certain they were non-lethal.

He had one chance to do what he wanted, and he couldn’t afford to miss. It was going to hurt a lot more if he did.

He felt Sasuke pause, and reached curiously with his chakra to pinpoint Sasuke’s location. There was no room for error at all. One hand went up to grasp at the hilt of his sword. Itachi took a deep breath, hoping it would be enough, and flickered away from his hiding place into full view of Sasuke.

There was only a split second to react. Sasuke’s eyes locked onto Itachi, and there was the prickling crackle as he prepared yet another lightning attack. The white-hot flash shot from directly above; Itachi had his sword drawn in the split second, chakra ready and moulded, braced for impact.

The bolt hit the blade of his sword, he felt it tremor right through his body in one instant hot snap, but the angle was exactly right, and the bolt deflected towards Sasuke. Too fast to be dodged, and Sasuke wasn’t ready for that sort of counter attack. He took the hit directly in the centre of his chest – that was why Itachi needed him drained enough that the hit wouldn’t kill – and was collapsed on the ground before the bolt had even finished dissipating into the air.

Itachi’s whole body burned, his hands were shaking around the sword’s hilt. It had not deflected as much as he had hoped, his chakra was running wild with the sudden disruption. Ironically enough, the pain in his chest eased first, and his heart was no longer pounding. He sheathed his sword with trembling hands, and started to walk towards his brother.

Sasuke struggled to get up, whole body shaking with effort. Itachi waited, close enough to be seen but not close enough to seem threatening. He needed to catch his breath anyway, he could feel it straining, lungs struggling to gain the air they needed.

Sasuke shook, faltering in his attempt to stand. The dirt on his face was streaked down his cheeks, tears falling freely in bitter defeat and gut wrenching hurt, and pure agony from the burning throughout his body and soul.

“You failed me!” It was the seal talking again, putting words into his mouth, drawing from deep memories and twisting them like a nest of vipers. “You failed everyone!”

Itachi did not retaliate against the verbal abuse. _That’s not you. That’s not your words. None of this is you._

“You couldn’t save them! You were right there, and you couldn’t save them! It’s your fault, that everything went wrong. You lost our happy ending.”

“I know. Sasuke, I _know_ ,” he didn’t know what else to say. He agreed with Sasuke, with the turmoil that the seal was creating. But he needed his brother back – he needed to get through that seal to the real Sasuke underneath. “I messed up. I couldn’t be the brother you needed me to be. But I won’t lose you again. I can’t change what happened the past, but I will give you the future you deserve. There will be a happy ending for you.”

“You can’t bring them back!” Sasuke screamed. Every word hurt, but they kept coming. He couldn’t stop them.

“No,” Itachi agreed quietly. “But neither can you. And even if you kill me, it still won’t change what happened. I still love you, always will, and it’s alright if you . . . don’t want to love me back anymore. But that’s our problem. Don’t let Madara take the whole world from everyone else . . .” His expression was pained. “He’s already taken the world from me.”

“You stopped caring about me years ago,” Sasuke snapped. “You don’t love me like you used to – now it’s always Shisui, and he’s the only one you care about!”

“I can love you both. But you will always be there, first and foremost, in my heart. Since the day you were born, all I wanted was to protect you, and make sure you grew up safely. I can still remember that day. I remember you – you were so tiny and fragile and I didn’t want the world to touch you. I held onto you, and I regret every day since that I haven’t been able to hold you. Losing you will tear me apart forever. I know I wasn’t good enough for you. But Konoha will give you a second chance. That’s all I ask of you, too. Give _me_ a second chance. To love you and be there for you.”

A shadow of something flickered across Sasuke’s face. A brief moment of vulnerability, the face of a child. A weakness in Madara’s hold, a fraction of Sasuke showing through.

Itachi grabbed the moment without hesitation. “This isn’t who you want to be. It’s not who I want to be. Come back to me, and let me start anew. I will always be here for you.”

Something inside Sasuke flickered. Something in his steel mind cracked. A lonely thought pushed out. _I love you, Nii-san._

“If you want to kill me, go head,” Itachi said. “I won’t stop you. I will not hurt you anymore. I’ve done enough to you. From now on, the decision belongs to you. Kill me here, or come home with me. Either way, I will always love you.”

Sasuke’s mind was exhausted. He couldn’t hold everything together any more, not the animosity, not the seal, not the pull of Orochimaru nor the hold of Madara. Something had to give. He gave up, exhausted, finally letting go of everything that pulled at him.

Itachi waited. A final attack would come, he knew that. And if he was right, he knew what it would be.

Sasuke had reached his breaking point, chakra exhausted, emotions wrung out, his little world in shambles. And just as Itachi hoped, just as he needed, as Sasuke’s control gave way, Orochimaru’s came back. His presence rose like a snake, winding from Sasuke’s body in a long white serpentine, and the cruel smiling face of Orochimaru was suddenly forming.

Itachi didn’t wait for anything. No explanations, no jutsu, nothing. His Sharingan swirled, burning hot in his eyes, and red waves formed around him, enveloping him and taking shape into his impenetrable Susanoo shield. The flaming red beast towered above the battlefield, and Itachi had no doubt it was attracting attention. He didn’t care, he had eyes only for his brother.

The Sword of Totsuka reached forwards, drawing the rest of Orochimaru’s essence out of Sasuke, to seal it away forever.

There was endless screaming and protests from whatever manifestation of Orochimaru Itachi was looking at, but Itachi kept his focus, kept his steel hard mental hold, until he had drained every sign of Orochimaru, dragged every bit of him from Sasuke’s mind and body, and he was absolutely certain Sasuke was free, and alone in his mind.

Only then did he relinquish the Susanoo, sending the red flames away with just a thought, and then it was just him and Sasuke. Alone.

Just the two of them.

Sasuke wavered, and staggered one step. Itachi flickered to him, catching him, holding him close, arms tight around him, and trying to catch his breath with his heart pounding and his chest burning. But he had Sasuke, alive and relatively well, and it had been years since he’d been able to hold his brother.

“Sasuke,” he breathed, relieved and thrilled and feeling the slight tremor from his brother.

“I . . . what . . . Itachi?” Sasuke struggled slightly in his grasp, trying to break free. Itachi did not let go, holding him stubbornly close, chin hooked over Sasuke’s shoulder.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, even though he knew Sasuke wasn’t listening properly. “I’ve got you. Got you back. And it’s alright, because if I’ve got you, I can handle everything else in the world. I just need to know you’re safe.”

He could feel Sasuke’s confusion, sudden disorientation, rapidly swirling emotions. “What . . . is happening . . .?”

“I’ve got you. You’re not alone anymore. I love you, and I forgive you, and everything will be fine.”

Sasuke couldn’t make sense of Itachi’s words, his mind was a jumble, thoughts tangled and fractured. But he knew this, right here, this familiarity of being held close, of being comforted and protected. It was something he had missed, and his heart was aching. Hesitantly, he returned the embrace, every muscle shaking with effort. Itachi’s grip on him tightened fiercely.

It was calming. It was soothing, and the stress and terror of the past was melting away. Sasuke was safe, gathering his thoughts. His mind was silent, no arrogant whisper clouded his thoughts. No more mental battles were raging, just the peaceful silence and a world enveloped by Itachi’s protective stance. Sasuke could feel consciousness fading; exhaustion and defeat catching up to him. He was drained, from the fight, from the struggle, from existing with someone else clouding his thoughts and decisions.

Itachi was safety. Itachi had always been safety. The world dropped away in one sudden motion, and Sasuke was a dead weight against his brother. They didn’t move; Itachi was savouring the moment, letting it linger, wanting nothing more than to make up for lost time by never letting Sasuke go again.

But he could feel the battlefield still raging around him, and he knew he couldn’t stand there with his brother forever. He gathered Sasuke gently, tenderly, into his arms, making his way swiftly to the medic base.

There was a knot of shinobi gathered there, including Kakashi. There was a large, gaping wound on his arm that was being healed.

Itachi’s eyes fell onto Shisui.

Shisui’s dark eyes locked onto his. “Oh. Hey.”

“Is Sasuke alright?” Sakura came up to him. Within a second, Naruto was there as well, hovering over Sasuke.

Itachi set him gently on the ground. “He’ll be fine. He needs to rest for a while. I need him to be safe.”

“He’ll be safe here.” Sakura nodded.

Itachi shot her a grateful look before moving to Shisui’s side. The sounds of battle were all around them. Shisui managed to move an arm, to get a weak hold on the sleeve of Itachi’s shirt. “Stay here with me.”

“How badly are you hurt?” Itachi breathed, his gaze flicking anxiously up and down Shisui’s body.

“It’s nothing.” Shisui’s dark eyes were wide, worried. “You’re the one we need to worry about.”

There was another ground-breaking shudder, and Itachi’s attention snapped towards the battlefield.

“Itachi, no,” Shisui said desperately. He tried to hold Itachi down against him, fingers gripping frantically into Itachi’s Anbu vest. “Don’t.”

“Look after him,” Itachi said, turning bright red eyes to look earnestly at Izumi.

She bit her lower lip, and nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

“What do you need?” Sakura asked, still at Sasuke’s side, one hand laid gently across his forehead.

“Oxygen,” Itachi answered grimly.

“What mad scheme do you have planned?” Tsunade’s voice cut through the relative quiet around them.

Itachi glanced up at her.

“What are you doing here?” Tsunade demanded, arms crossed over her chest, aiming a pointed glare in Itachi’s direction. “I ordered you to stay in the Leaf.”

“I am in the Leaf.” Itachi said innocently. “This land is technically classified as the Leaf. I checked a map.”

“Stop being a smart ass,” Tsunade snapped.

“I can’t help that.” Itachi looked at her seriously. “I can finish this fight.”

“You can’t take him on alone.”

“I’m not alone.” Itachi frowned at her. Tsunade glared back at him, tight-lipped and considering. Finally, she sighed.

“Fine. Go.” She looked towards the battle. “Nothing I say will stop you.”

“Don’t go back out there,” Shisui pleaded. He tried to sit up, but he was frustratingly immobilized. “Please, don’t. You’ll get killed. You can’t.”

“If I do not go, the whole world ends here,” Itachi replied. “I want to save it.”

“You know he’ll kill you. There is no one standing at your side to protect you.”

“I don’t need to be protected,” Itachi said. “And I can’t back away from this. I will make sure there is a future.”

“But there is no future without you,” Shisui said. He reached his other hand out, and Itachi took it, edging close to him. “Promise me you won’t die. Promise me that.”

“I promise.”

“Oh, god,” Shisui groaned, eyes bright and wet. “You’re so gorgeous and so fucking stupid. Why did I have to fall in love with a self-sacrificing, suicidal martyr?”

“You didn’t have to,” Itachi replied softly. “You chose me.”

“Yeah. I did. So you better come back, because you’re mine, and I’m not saying good bye.”

Itachi leaned down to kiss him fiercely, Shisui’s weak grasp tightening on his shirt, pulling him as close as he could. Shisui kissed back just as hard, eyes screwing closed, his other hand moving to the back of Itachi’s neck to hold him down.

Itachi pulled back, eyes ready and shining red. “I love you. Wait for me.”

In the next instant he was gone, throwing himself back out into the battlefield.

There was utter silence.

Sakura and Naruto blinked. After a long pause, Naruto finally found his voice again, “So that’s a thing.”

“Seriously,” Kakashi sighed. “How did no one else know about them?”


	41. 40 - The Vengeful One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, last action chapter.
> 
> Chapter may contain graphic violence depending on what you classify as graphic.

Sasuke’s mind was dark and hazy. Little snippets of reality were trying to break through, familiar sounding voices and strange background noises, and erratic flares of chakra all around him. He felt numb, and suspended in darkness.

But some flicker of normality was breaking though, something at first unrecognisable. Then he was able to lock down his own senses, and pieces of his surroundings were becoming clearer. He recognised a voice – it was Sakura. He was more aware of his body now; he was lying down. The constant burning in his neck from the cursed seal had ceased. The little whisper in his mind was quiet.

It was gone.

He was alone in his thoughts, and they came creeping in carefully, used to being pushed aside and overshadowed. Fully in control, he forced his eyes open, blinking at the people around him. He was confused, and disoriented, but he was himself.

“Sasuke?” Sakura asked softly, hovering above him. “Are you okay? Do you feel okay?”

Every muscle hurt, it felt like he’d been struck by lightning. A hazy memory jumped to the forefront of his mind. “Where’s . . . Itachi . . .?”

He struggled to sit up; Sakura helped him. His head was pounding.

“Itachi’s busy,” Sakura said haltingly. “You should rest.”

Sasuke ceased moving willingly. He settled down again, lying on his back while his head pounded, and his stomach churned. He didn’t think he could get up anyway. “Is Itachi okay?”

Sakura hesitated. She glanced in the direction of the battlefield. How did anyone answer that question? “. . . I don’t know.”

 

The very second Madara got his eyes on Itachi, he sent a barrage of attacks flying at him, and dozens of his army sprang towards him, trying to pin him down, overwhelm him, do anything.

Itachi cut his way through them as efficiently as possible, trying to conserve energy and edge closer to Madara. He needed to be close; he didn’t know what his range was with the genjutsu he wanted to use, and he couldn’t take the risk of missing.

The ground was littered with bodies, but he hardened his heart to it and stayed focused. He had a task to achieve, he had a goal in mind, and he couldn’t afford to be distracted by sentimentality.

Madara certainly wouldn’t be.

“Gai’s down,” Kakashi flashed to Itachi’s side, falling into rhythm beside him and cutting a path through Madara’s army. More shinobi surrounded them, helping. “Gaara’s out of chakra. We are running out of time.”

The army felt never ending. There were still too many left, hundreds of them, surrounding Madara.

They were all in one place. Itachi hesitated, mind flicking through possibilities. Could he take them all down at once? Could he use all three techniques he needed without breaking his body apart with the strain? Did he have the chakra to do it all – and what would happen if he completely used his up?

They were in a small clearing, a rare second without enemies attacking on all sides. Itachi breathed in deeply, weighing his odds and deciding on the best course of action.

Their lack of movement was noticed, and as one Madara’s army started to close in on them from all sides, beating their way through Itachi’s alliance.

Kakashi looked at him grimly, battle ready with his face stony and a kunai at the ready. “Any bright ideas, Panda?”

“I’ve got a few.” Itachi breathed carefully. He could feel every breath in his lungs; they felt wet, and now was not the time to dissolve into a fit of coughing blood. He swallowed down the coppery taste. It was a warning, he knew. There would be blood soon. “I need . . .” He could barely get enough air. “I need them all in one place. I don’t know how far I can reach . . .”

“What are you planning?” Kakashi asked suspiciously. He darted to Itachi’s side as the young shinobi dropped down onto one knee, a fist pressed into the ground, taking in shallow, desperate gulps of air. “Panda?”

Breathing was a struggle. Itachi fought for air. “Give me . . . a few minutes . . .”

Several of Madara’s soldiers came flying at them. Kakashi fought them off, slashing them away with a kunai, trying to keep Itachi protected. Within seconds, there was the clang of another kunai, and Izumi was suddenly with them, standing in front of Itachi and blocking off any further attacks. Itachi focused enough to flare his chakra once, as a signal, and Sugaru blurred behind him, looking ready to defend.

“Everything okay, Captain?” he asked.

Itachi shook his head slowly. “It’s been better.” He could have used Naruto, but the poor boy was exhausted and out of energy; the powerhouses of the battle were starting to fail. Madara’s army attacked in relentless waves, giving no time for anyone to catch their breaths, to recover chakra.

“What’s the plan?” Izumi asked. “We’re running low on numbers.”

“I’ve noticed.” Itachi struggled to breathe. “I can wall them in. Keep them in one place. Then light them up.”

“You do not have the chakra for that,” Kakashi said grimly. “There’s no way you can do it.”

“It’s our last chance,” Itachi replied. He tried to get to his feet, strength failing momentarily. Sugaru stepped to his side and pulled him upright. Itachi shot him a grateful look. He just needed some time, to breathe, and recover some energy, and get his focus back.

Madara was not willing to give him that – he moved towards them without warning.

He was blindingly fast, too fast for Itachi to watch him all the time, especially with his chest aching, and his vision hazy. He tracked the blur of chakra easily enough, bracing for a hit, hand automatically raising his sword in defence.

The attack was not aimed at him. Itachi had barely a second to register the motion before he heard Izumi’s sudden scream, and it ripped right through the veil of foggy pain he had surrounded himself in. The world was suddenly crystal clear, shocking in its clarity, and he lashed out, once.

The edge of his blade brushed against Madara’s skin, a small, barely noticeable red line appearing. It didn’t matter, and it didn’t make a difference. Madara was gone again before Itachi time to draw in a breath, and then Izumi had buckled to her knees.

Itachi dived to her side at the same time as another drove of Madara’s army closed in on them. He hovered protectively, ready to defend, but Kakashi and Sugaru kept them clear from any attacks. “Izumi?”

There was a growing blood stain blooming across her stomach, a lengthy cut sliced along her abdomen. She pressed an arm against it, hunched forward. There was no telling how deep it went without a proper inspection.

Itachi needed to get her away from the battle. “Come on. I’ve got you.” He lifted her free arm over his neck, arm around her, and carefully stood up, pulling her to her feet next to him.

Izumi hissed in pain.

“We’re going to get you out of here,” he murmured. “You’re not going to die on my watch.”

Izumi nodded weakly.

Madara’s low chuckle cut through the still air. His army backed away.

“All your fears, Itachi, I told you that they made you weak.” Madara sneered at him. “And here they all are. I took your brother from you, and you don’t know if you’ll ever get him back. I’ve torn his mind apart, and taken everything you loved about him away. And he wasn’t your only fear. How’s your cousin, Itachi? How is he doing? Crippled, and broken, and _useless_.”

Itachi said nothing, eyes narrowed.

“And your little friend there. Are you afraid now? Are you afraid she won’t make the journey home with you? I can kill her right now, right there in your arms. You’re weak, because you have fears, and that is why you’ll never defeat me.”

He tightened his grip on Izumi, protective and possessive.

“Your world falls now, and mine will take its place. I’ll show you the true road to peace – to destroy what we have now!” Madara opened his arms wide, gesturing.

His army gathered, looking immense. The shinobi alliance was not outnumbered anymore, but they appeared overpowered. And Madara’s army seemed to never tire, whereas Itachi’s did. Kakashi still stood firmly at Itachi’s side, but the battle with Obito had worn him down, physically and mentally, and Itachi would ask him for no more.

Sugaru was at Itachi’s other side, but for the first time he seemed to be flagging, overcome with exhaustion.

“Take Izumi,” Itachi said gently, eyes flicking to Kakashi. “Get yourself out of range.”

“You’re going to kill yourself,” Kakashi warned. “That amount of chakra output . . .”

“I have a plan,” Itachi assured him. Izumi resisted being handed over, trying to hold onto him.

“Itachi, no, not if you’re going to-“

“It’s fine,” he told her sincerely. “I’ll be with you again soon. Look after Shisui.” He looked at Kakashi. “Please, get everyone to a safe distance.”

The Copy Nin did not obey immediately. He paused. Quietly, he said, “Sure about this, Panda?”

“Yes. It’s the only way.”

“Good luck.”

Itachi looked to Sugaru. “Pull everyone back. Get everyone clear.”

With a nod, the Anbu ninja blurred away, and Itachi was alone amongst the battlefield. Weapons were scattered everywhere, there were too many bodies to count, and not enough were Madara’s faceless army. Itachi took in a deep breath, trying to ground himself, to get his focus. A violent cough escaped him, blood spurting from his mouth, and his chest tightened painfully.

_Not now_ , he thought, spitting a chunk of blood to the ground. _Not yet._

The sun was setting fast, and he was struggling to see clearly. Details were fading fast, but his Sharingan at least provided a clear picture of every chakra signature around him. He didn’t want to be fighting Madara at night, in the dark, with nothing but a flame of energy to guide him. Drawing in a breath, he systematically obliterated all of Madara’s nearby army with powerful, well placed genjutsu, but he knew he couldn’t do that for all of them.

Not if he wanted to live to see the morning.

“All clear, Captain.” Sugaru was back, landing lithely at Itachi’s side. He stood tall, but Itachi could see the slight shake of his shoulders. Even Sugaru, whose limits Itachi had never seen, was running out of strength.

“Get yourself somewhere safe,” Itachi said, still breathing heavily. “I can end this.” _I have to._

Sugaru was about to nod. It took less than a second - Madara was impossibly fast, and Itachi couldn’t even see the attack coming. For a second, Itachi thought Madara had missed, that he had moved only to distract them.

Then Sugaru fell to the ground with a hollow gurgle, and his head flopped limply to one side. A thin red line was visible across his throat, and then suddenly it was more than just a thin line – it was a gash absolutely pouring.

There was a lot of blood. Too much, pumping from Sugaru’s throat, and Itachi dropped down beside him and pressed a hand carefully to the wound. The bleeding wouldn’t stop. It barely slowed. “We’ll get you help.” He hated how shaky his voice sounded, but he had already calculated the amount of blood lost. They had seconds. “Get you back to the medic base. It’s fine.”

Sugaru’s eyes were blank, and he shook his head very slowly.

“I can cauterize it, I’ll stop the bleeding. You’ll be fine.” Itachi’s stomach twisted. _Liar_. “I’ll take you home. To your family. You can . . . you don’t have to be in Anbu anymore, but you’ll be fine-“

Again, Sugaru shook his head, blinking slowly.

There was nothing Itachi could do, no way to help, no way to stop the bleeding. It didn’t matter, the time it was taking him to make a decision was already too much. Sugaru just stared at him, slightly haunted, and became increasingly still, until there was no more movement, no recognition in his eyes, no pulse thudding at all.

Itachi sat still, watching the blood finish running, pooling on the ground in a massive puddle of bright crimson.

Madara was standing close by, watching, making no move to attack just yet. There was a strange silence around them, with Madara’s army paused, and Itachi’s backing off, wary, and awaiting orders. Itachi could feel their exhaustion.

Madara looked up at the moon. He chuckled, low and dark and menacing. “This is where your world ends, Itachi. And where mine begins. Let me show you . . .”

 

 

Itachi woke up with a start, jerking to alertness and taking frantic breaths, mind whirling.

At his side, Shisui mumbled, “What are you jumping around for?”

“Madara . . .” Itachi sat up, looking around the dark room.

“That was weeks ago, go back to sleep.” With a muffled yawn, Shisui rolled onto his side, facing Itachi, and blinking at him blearily.

_Weeks ago_ didn’t sound right, but why wouldn’t it be? Shisui would never lie to him. He struggled to recall the battle, finding the details hazy, but they were there, so it must be correct. Everything felt normal, but he couldn’t explain the lingering feeling of unease.

He lay down again, trying to shake the disquiet in his mind. “We won?”

“You won,” Shisui sounded sleepy. He snuggled closer.

“I don’t remember it.”

“Probably because you were so exhausted afterwards. Took weeks for you to recover.”

That sounded accurate. Hesitantly, Itachi settled into the warmth of Shisui’s body.

Shisui smiled, shifting a little until he could press a soft kiss to Itachi’s lips. Itachi did not resist, trying to calm himself, to relax.

Seemingly sensing his unease, Shisui pressed Itachi down in his back, holding him still with his chest against his, lips against his, and there was the familiar tightness through Itachi’s chest that accompanied lying on his back. It was so real, so normal, that he figured his unsettled thoughts must be nothing more than the aftermath of battle. He kissed back eagerly, wanting the moment to last.

Shisui moved a hand to lay it against Itachi’s neck, pulling him gently to deepen the kiss. Itachi let himself by manipulated, raising his hand to lay it over Shisui’s, eyes closed, focused purely on feelings and sensations. He brushed his fingertips over the ring on Shisui’s finger, the metal was cool to the touch, smooth.

The gesture was familiar, one he did often. One that felt natural. He hooked a leg over Shisui to pull him more firmly, to lay them as close as possible. At the same time, he moved his hand to the red ribbon around Shisui’s wrist, to slide a finger under it and tug it in the way he usually did, the way that said _I love you._

It wasn’t there.

Itachi jerked his head back, eyes snapping open. He took less than a second to analyse.

Shisui looked at him questioningly. “Something wrong?”

“You missed a detail,” he said softly. A well-constructed illusion depended on details. And Madara had missed one.

Shisui frowned. “Itachi-“

“You’re not Shisui. And none of this is real.” There was a twist of annoyance in his mind. Partially at himself for ever being caught in a genjutsu, but the brunt of his annoyance was at Madara for giving him an illusion he wanted – how dare he show Itachi a perfect world?

“I want _my_ perfect world,” he said. “Not yours.” He was carefully putting a defence together, preparing to break out of Madara’s vision.

“This is your perfect world,” Shisui insisted. “It’s you and me.”

“One difference,” Itachi said, anger rising. “My perfect world is going to exist.”

 

 

Reality felt like a knife though the brain, and through that haze of agonising pain, Itachi vaguely acknowledged – _so that’s what Tsukiyomi feels like . . ._

For a moment, he felt incredibly nauseous, swaying on his feet and fighting the urge to pass out. The sudden snap back to the present was disorienting, and sickening, and it hurt more than Itachi could take.

Madara looked at him, supremely confident even though his illusion had been broken, and glanced at the emptiness around them. “That was quick, even for you. I thought I’d have a bit more time before you managed to escape something that powerful.”

“You missed a detail,” Itachi spat. “You missed the ribbon.”

Madara lifted one shoulder in a dispassionate shrug. It didn’t matter how far away Itachi sent everyone, and it didn’t matter if Itachi had nullified his Infinite Tsukuyomi. He would kill them all, one by one, because Itachi was no longer a threat. One little ribbon didn’t mean much to him. Standing alone, as Itachi was, was suicide, and Madara could repeat the technique as many times as it took to slice through Itachi’s consciousness.

“You cannot defeat me,” Madara snapped. “I told you this years ago, you will never, ever be enough. Look at the battle field, Itachi. You lose. You have no one left. No one can stand up to me now.”

Itachi stood fearlessly in front of him, jaw set tensely.

Madara’s army surrounded him, with Itachi standing at the very edge of the masses.

Itachi wiped the blood off his face, closing his eyes briefly and gathering himself. His head was pounding, every nerve screeching in pain, but he refused to give in to it. When he opened them again, his Sharingan was darker, the three tomoe swirling into a three pointed, Mangekyou star.

“And what’s that for? No genjutsu will work on me now.”

“I know it won’t. But one that’s already in your mind will.”

Madara sneered. “What are you going on about? There is no genjutsu on me, so you have no power over me. You haven’t had a single opportunity to place one on me, and even if you had, it wouldn’t work.”

“It worked two days ago.” Itachi replied calmly.

Madara paused, momentarily thrown by Itachi’s statement. “What?”

“When you interrupted my Kage summit meeting,” the level of indignation in Itachi’s voice might have been comical in any other situation, “I took the opportunity to implant the first layer of my genjutsu into your mind. You didn’t think I could, so you didn’t try to block me.”

Madara looked shocked. “That’s impossible.”

“It wasn’t. It wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t impossible. I knew I would need some way to defeat you, and I knew you would be defending against any illusions here on the battlefield. But you underestimated me in Konoha. And now I have the advantage, and a way to end this. Because as soon as I told you about it, the genjutsu was activated. You’re in it, right now. And you can’t break it.” His eyes were narrow, voice low. “You are under my control now.”

Madara stood frozen in place, his whole body suddenly feeling cold and locked. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t _move_ , and the realisation was incomprehensible. “What the . . .”

“You said I should have killed Obito when I had the chance,” Itachi said. There was a snapping, crackling sound beginning to cut through the air, as white-hot sparks and bolts of chakra began surrounding the area around Itachi’s body. “You should have killed _me_ when you had the chance. This time, I win,” he tensed, every muscle in his body snapping taut with effort, the lightning snaps of chakra burst outwards, cutting into the ground, burning the air, and racing to surround Madara’s entire army in a tall, crackling wall. “And your army goes down with you.”

Madara was shaking, rage uncontrollable but safely contained in Itachi’s steel hard mental grip.

One of his army tried experimentally to step through Itachi’s barrier. Within seconds, it was staggering back and screaming, every part of its body where the now pale blue chakra touched exploding in a shower of blood and shredded flesh.

“You still can’t kill me,” Madara snarled. “Nothing you do will ever be enough.”

“I know.”

There was a flicker of fear in Madara’s eyes at Itachi’s answer.

“I wasn’t intending to kill you myself.”

The army was screaming, the blue bolts reaching in, catching at their limbs and bodies, and they were ripping apart piece by gruesome piece. Hands exploded into tiny chunks, legs were blown off into stumps, scorched skin bled heavily onto the ground.

“I’m going to make you kill yourself,” Itachi said calmly, but there was a tremor through his body that indicated he wouldn’t maintain his hold for much longer. He could feel every beat of his heart, too fast and too shallow, dizzying in its speed, but he held on. He held on, because if he didn’t, everyone died.

He couldn’t hold it for much longer, not with Madara’s frantic attempts to break his control, and the blue chakra barrier draining him, and he knew he would be out of chakra in mere seconds. It was a struggle to move Madara, a concentrated effort to make him reach down and pick a stray kunai up off the battlefield.

The urge to collapse was growing stronger with every passing second. The familiar taste of blood was in his mouth. Time was running out.

“Itachi,” Madara snapped. “Stop it now.” His arm trembled slightly, fighting against Itachi’s hold. Itachi could feel the waver, the ripple through his mind that indicated a slight loss of control. If it came to a battle of wills, however, Itachi was not going to lose.

Ignoring the powerful, skull cracking ache in his head, he gathered his chakra, gathered his focus, and used just one swift, smooth motion to bring the kunai to Madara’s throat and cut into flesh with a terrifyingly accurate slash.

The artery burst open, blood spraying, and Itachi kept his hold, keeping Madara’s body still, using every last ounce of skill to take control of Madara’s heart and force it to keep pumping blood, until the gushing slowed to a flow, a trickle, to nothingness.

Madara collapsed to the ground, limply, Itachi’s hold broken in a jolt. Before he had even finished falling, Itachi’s eyes flashed once, and the entire area within his chakra barrier erupted into powerful black flames. The rest of the army caught alight, the most powerful fire on earth consuming them all.

Flames caught and danced on Madara’s body, burning rapidly.

The noise was deafening; the sounds of bone cracking under the immense heat, the sounds of terrified screams from lungs choked in heat, the panicked flailing of a thousand bodies trying to outrun a fire that could never be outrun.

Itachi didn’t hear any of it. The blue chakra faded, and all the strength in his body faded with it. He closed his eyes, suddenly feeling as though all the energy had been drained from him, and he staggered forward a single step. The world was slowly growing dark, colours dimmed and sounds muted. He fell forwards, mind snapping out of consciousness.

“Itachi!” Izumi screamed desperately over the hideous shrieking. She started to run towards him, limping, but a shadowy blur overtook her, flying past and reaching Itachi faster than she could.

It was Sasuke, leaping agilely to Itachi’s side. He caught him before he even hit the ground, cradling Itachi gently.

“I’ve got you,” he said hoarsely. “Nii-san, I’ve got you now. Just like you’ve always had me. It’s over, and I’ve got you.” He was babbling, still talking because it was so damn terrifying looking at Itachi lying so still, so pale. Sasuke’s hands were shaking.

In the next instant he was surrounded, Sakura pushing her way close to him, Naruto at his back, Izumi at his side. There were other shinobi too, but Sasuke wasn’t paying attention to them. All he focused on was Itachi.

The rise and fall of his chest was barely noticeable.

“Help him,” he looked at Sakura, eyes dark and desperate. “Please, help him.”

“I’ll do my best,” she promised.

She didn’t say it aloud, but she had a sinking feeling that even the best would not be enough.


	42. 41 - Because You're Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long chapter, but there wasn't a good place to break it up. The ending doesn't quite have the punch I wanted, but I think it's okay. Enjoy.

Shisui woke up to a strange warmth on his back. No, not on. _In._

He opened his eyes, blinking rapidly. The warmth was still there, tingly but intangible. He managed to question it, “Wah?”

“Shisui?” He knew that voice. Kind, and warm, and smooth. That was Aruku.

“What’s . . . what’s happening?”

“I thought I told you,” Aruku said teasingly. “Don’t break your back again.”

The room was piecing itself together, slowly. Shisui was lying face down, head turned to the wall. With effort, he raised himself onto his elbows. He glanced the other way, breath catching in his throat.

He was not alone in this hospital room.

Just out of reach, surrounded by too many terrifying tubes and drips to count, Itachi was lying, looking deathly pale and unmoving. It took Shisui a moment to see him breathing, the motion was so small, so unreliable.

“Itachi,” he said, wanting to get up and just go to him. Stand with him. Kiss him. Do anything but lie here helplessly.

Aruku laid a gentle and comforting hand on Shisui’s shoulder. “Take it easy. He is not going anywhere.”

The door opening alerted Shisui, and he snapped his head in that direction. Sakura and Izumi entered, both looking grim, although Izumi forced a smile when she saw Shisui looking at her.

“He’ll be okay, right?” Shisui asked, turning his head to stare at Itachi again.

Sakura spoke quietly. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. He hasn’t responded to anything.”

“But it hasn’t been long,” Shisui said. “It’s only been a day. Only a night. Right?” There was a sudden lump in his throat, difficult to talk around.

“It’s been five days, Shisui,” Sakura said gently. “We put you into a coma to stabilize your spine, and so Aruku could heal you. He hasn’t moved in five days.”

“Because you’re not me,” Shisui said, stretching an arm desperately out towards Itachi. “He wants me. He’ll be fine, I know he will.”

Without saying anything, Aruku positioned himself to push Shisui’s bed closer, until Shisui’s outstretched hand could reach Itachi.

“Come on, Itachi,” he rasped, entwining their fingers. “Come on, let me know you can hear me. Let me know you’re still in there.”

He squeezed Itachi’s fingers, hoping to convey some reassurance. Hoping for a response. For anything.

But there was nothing.

Nothing but the barely visible rise and fall of Itachi’s chest.

“Come on,” Shisui croaked, voice suddenly feeling wet and filled with tears. “I’m here, okay? I’m here. And so are you, I know you are.” _Come back to me. Please._

He barely noticed as Izumi left the room, head down, and walking swiftly.

Sakura remained silent, expression downcast. She checked everything surrounding Itachi, keeping her gaze away from Shisui. Aruku remained respectfully silent, standing back.

“You saved the whole world,” Shisui whispered, voice raw and painful. Words shuddered from him. “No one would be here without you. And you need to be here, too.”

There was still nothing. Absolute silence, absolute stillness. Shisui’s hand trembled.

“I’m sorry,” Sakura said in a low voice. “We’re doing all we can.”

Shisui swallowed, and nodded. His eyes felt wet. He laid his face down onto his pillow, trembling hand still gripping Itachi’s. Aruku stepped closer to him again, and Shisui’s back warmed as the Kiri shinobi continued with what he had been doing.

Shisui just waited.

He was waiting for so much – for Itachi’s hand to tighten in his. For Itachi’s eyes to open. For him to smile. For him to just move.

He was ready to wait forever.

 

Naruto had remained almost possessively at Sasuke’s side since they had returned to Konoha.

They were trailed at all times by a team of Anbu, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that Sasuke was home, and Naruto had delivered on his promise, and he had his best friend at his side again.

What to do with Sasuke was still a mystery. There was the delicate situation of him being a missing nin, and the Anbu were trained to hunt down and eradicate any missing nin. The only reason they had not done so was because of their captain. Until Itachi gave the order, Sasuke was off limits.

He was monitored, although it seemed unnecessary since Naruto never let him out of his sight.

With his mind finally cleared, and free, and all his own, Sasuke was starting to piece together the life he had been leading for the last few years. He remembered things vaguely, remembered voices, and some actions, some small battles. But most of it was just a haze, and he felt like an outsider looking into his own mind. He got confused easily, disoriented, unused to being in full control of every thought and motion.

While his mind recovered, he mostly wanted to sleep. He felt heavy, and exhausted, because he had still been battling the hold the seal had over him, snippets of things he had yelled at his brother weighing heavy in his chest. It remained to be seen what state of mind he would be in once things settled. Naruto had lost no faith in him, fully believing everything would return to the way it was, that Sasuke had never truly changed, and was not an enemy in the least.

Sasuke’s fate hung in the balance for now. Tsunade, as Hokage, would not pass any judgement on him just yet under Naruto’s pleading to give him a chance, and she had always found it difficult to deny the bubbly blonde. The council would not move to make a decision until Itachi had a chance to weigh in as well. And the Anbu, due to the relation of their target to their captain, did not make an attempt to take his life without a clear order.

The village was frozen until Itachi recovered.

 

With Aruku and Tsunade working together, Shisui was up on crutches two days later, although he could barely control his legs and the nerves down his back shot bolts of fire around his body if he moved in a certain way.

“I don’t know if that will or won’t go away,” Aruku admitted, walking slowly at Shisui’s side as they lapped the hospital. “Even walking again – without the crutches – seems doubtful.”

“I’ll do it. Once Itachi’s stronger, we can go back to Mist, and go through the whole ocean thing all over again.”

“Even then,” Aruku warned. “It may not be enough. Not with the amount of trauma that area of your body has been subjected to. I know you’ll do your best. But your best may not be enough.”

Shisui stopped, feeling out of breath. They were not far from where they had started.

“That may have been your last battle as a shinobi,” Aruku said.

Shisui glanced back over his shoulder. “Last for both us, probably.” _Itachi . . . you need to wake up . . ._

He kept walking, shuffling along determinedly. His thoughts were elsewhere, though, and not on Aruku’s warning words.

Itachi had not moved. He had been remaining unresponsive, although Sakura insisted he was doing better. She and Izumi had formed a strong friendship, with the Uchiha frequently visiting. ‘Better’ was not the result Shisui was waiting for. He was waiting for ‘talking and awake’.

“Shisui.” Tsunade spoke his name sharply from behind.

He turned around, carefully, because the last time he had tried he’d tangled himself up and fallen. “Yeah?”

“Come here.” She was standing half in the doorway to Itachi’s room. “I need your voice.”

“For . . . what . . .?” There could only be one thing, surely. His heart sped up, and he tried to hurry back, almost slipping.

“Careful,” Aruku chastised softly. “You’re no good to him if you knock yourself unconscious. Take it slow, we’ll get there.” He stayed close while Shisui scrambled back up the hallway, but stayed respectfully outside while Shisui skidded in, even more out of breath.

“Is he okay? What’s happening?”

“Calm down, I want you to talk to him,” Tsunade sounded incredibly level headed in the face of Shisui’s excitement. “Sakura thinks he’s waking up. I thought you might help.”

“Yeah,” Shisui edged as close as he could, throwing a crutch aside so he could grasp Itachi’s hand. His was shaking. He wondered if it was nervousness that had him so on edge. “Itachi? You there?”

“Sakura?” Tsunade asked.

“Pulse is stronger,” Sakura murmured. “Should we give him adrenaline, just in case?”

“Give him a few more minutes,” Tsunade said. “Let him do it on his own.”

“Come on, Itachi,” Shisui whispered, hovering over him, his hand shaking almost uncontrollably. He felt something in his grip move, and he froze. He waited. It happened again, just a slight tightening in his hand, he squeezed back, eyes filling involuntarily with tears. “I’m right here. Forever.”

“Wake up, Uchiha,” Tsunade said firmly. “Your cousin’s been waiting for days.”

Shisui watched anxiously, his heart stuttering slightly when Itachi’s so far peaceful expression tensed slightly, into a frown. Then his eyes flickered, blinking slightly open, once, twice, then locking without hesitation onto Shisui’s face.

“Hey,” Shisui said faintly. “Welcome back.”

Itachi’s gaze wandered away, to the lights in the room, to the side, brushing over Tsunade and Sakura. He seemed slightly unfocused, confused, but so clearly awake that Shisui’s tears spilled over, and he leaned his head down, forehead against Itachi’s, and tears dripping off his face onto Itachi’s cheeks.

“Okay, try not to drown him,” Tsunade said. “Poor kid’s been through enough without your waterworks to add to it.”

Shisui gave a faint chuckle at that. He moved back a bit, a closed fist wiping tears from his face.

Itachi’s dark eyes flicked up to him, following all his movements, and he smiled slightly. The sight made Shisui’s heart race.

“You scared me to death,” Shisui said, sounding more fond than accusatory.

“Sorry.” Itachi’s voice was raspy, worn down from illness and disuse.

“I always said you were a constant challenge,” Shisui continued. “I think I aged twenty years in the last week. You always go all the way with things – never half-arsing a task.”

“Sasuke?” Itachi questioned, ignoring Shisui’s light teasing.

“He’s here. Naruto’s been keeping an eye on him. He’s fine. You . . . you saved everybody.”

With a satisfied nod, Itachi’s eyes slid closed again. He let out a light sigh.

“You should let him rest,” Tsunade said. “Try not to over excite him. Or yourself.”

“I’m alright,” Itachi murmured. “My eyes are just tired.” Everything was tired, but he didn’t mention that. He could feel Shisui next to him, chakra quivering, and that was enough, it was something he wanted to hold onto. “I want to talk to Sasuke.”

“We’ll get him here later,” Sakura promised. “But don’t overdo anything.”

Itachi nodded, satisfied, eyes remaining closed.

“You can go fetch him,” Tsunade said to Sakura. “He’s going to worry until you do.”

Sakura nodded briefly before leaving. Shisui remained where he was, hovering anxiously. He looked set to climb onto the bed beside Itachi, stopped only by the fact that were still tubes and wires everywhere.

“Itachi,” Tsunade said, reaching a hand out to gently smooth his hair. He didn’t move, but flared his chakra once to let her know he was listening. “I don’t know how you pulled that nonsense off against Madara. Should have killed you, that amount of chakra output. You just can’t stop yourself from finding new ways to stand out, can you?”

He smiled then, snorting softly in what was supposed to be a laugh.

“I’ll leave you two alone for a bit,” Tsunade said. “Sasuke is on his way.”

Once she left, Shisui eased into a chair, slowly, because sitting ached, no matter how he did it.

“Are you alright?” Itachi mumbled, eyes still closed.

“Me?” Shisui said, disbelieving. “You’re the one who nearly committed suicide by lightning and fire.”

“You got hurt,” Itachi continued. “During the battle. I remember that.”

“I’m fine,” Shisui murmured. “Worry about yourself, for once.”

Itachi moved an arm, searching blindly, until Shisui placed his hand in Itachi’s. Itachi moved again, hooking a finger in the red ribbon around Shisui’s wrist. He tugged it once, kept it linked in his fingers.

Shisui understood. He whispered it back, “I love you too.”

 

Sakura brought Sasuke back within the hour, waking Itachi from the light sleep he had drifted back into. Shisui was crutching back and forth across the room, his back on fire from sitting down. He glanced at Itachi, checking he had heard Sasuke enter and wouldn’t be startled.

Sasuke approached Itachi almost shaking, and Shisui wondered if it was from fear of Itachi’s injuries or fear of admonition for his behaviour the last few years. He waited to make sure Itachi was fully awake before he left the room, leaving the brothers alone.

“Hey,” Sasuke breathed. He looked anxious, unsure, as though breathing too hard might break Itachi; he looked so delicate.

But he was smiling warmly, so happy to see his brother, tired eyes lighting up at Sasuke’s presence. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

“I . . . I’m sorry . . .” Sasuke swallowed. “I’m sorry about what I said to you. All of it. And everything I’ve done . . .”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Itachi replied gently. “It wasn’t you. You were being controlled. I knew that.”

“Not sure the village sees it the same way . . .” Sasuke was nervous about that. Worried about his fate, and what ruling would fall down upon him.

“Are you keeping safe? Are you alright?” Itachi slipped seamlessly back into his role as older brother, the protector, the worrier.

“Yeah,” Sasuke said. “I’m staying with Naruto for now. I’m not . . . allowed on my own at the moment.”

Itachi nodded. He looked slightly relieved at that. “Naruto will look after you.”

“Whose looking after you?” Sasuke sounded strangely worried, his voice wavering slightly. At Itachi’s slightly questioning look, he clarified, “Sakura says you’re sick. Like . . . really sick . . .”

“You don’t need to worry about that.”

“That’s not what everyone’s saying.” Sasuke fidgeted slightly in place. “Sakura said it was a miracle you’re even alive now. How long . . . how long have you been sick . . . and . . . is it my fault?”

“No,” Itachi shook his head. “It’s not.”

“Because I left you. And if I could have helped . . .”

“It’s not your fault.” Itachi’s words were gentle, but there was firmness to his expression, a sincerity that made Sasuke instantly accept the declaration. “And I’ll be fine.”

“Everyone disagrees with you.” Sasuke’s lips were pressed together into a thin line. His lower lip trembled slightly.

“Are you alright?” Itachi asked carefully. “I’m sorry if I-“

“I just got you back,” Sasuke interrupted suddenly. He blinked once, twice, then shook his head violently and almost leapt onto Itachi, face buried in his chest, ignoring the strained and very audible ‘ow’. “Don’t you dare leave me.”

He clutched at Itachi’s shirt, holding on childishly, with slightly uneven breathing as he tried to get his emotions under control. Itachi just held him, moving carefully into a comfortable position without dislodging Sasuke – not that he could if he tried, his brother had glued himself to Itachi’s body and looked set to stay forever – because chest tubes hurt a lot when a sibling leaned on them.

“I won’t leave,” Itachi murmured. He stroked one hand through Sasuke’s wild hair, not missing it when Sasuke’s breath hitched again. “I’m staying right here with you.”

“But you’re sick.” That sounded more like Sasuke, more like his baby brother and less like the shinobi who had stood against the Leaf and fought violently.

“I can manage. We’ve got the best medical shinobi around, everything will be fine.”

Sasuke let out a shuddering breath against Itachi’s chest. “I should never have left. Shouldn’t have left you alone.”

“I wasn’t alone. I had Shisui. And none of this was your fault.”

“You and . . . Shisui . . .” Sasuke sounded slightly distasteful. His dislike of Shisui had never been a secret, old stirrings of jealously arising once again. He stayed where he was, though, firmly hiding in Itachi’s shirt.

“Me and Shisui,” Itachi agreed. Then he hesitated, because if there was one person in the world whose opinion mattered as much as Shisui’s, it was Sasuke. “Are you . . . is that alright?”

Sasuke let out a bitter sounding huff. “Whatever. Your life. Not like I can comment on people’s life choices.”

“I’m happy with him,” Itachi murmured.

Sasuke finally picked himself up, standing at the side of the bed again, avoiding eye contact. His eyes were shining bright, and he wiped the back of one hand across his nose. “I guess if you’re happy then it’s fine. I’ll deal. I just . . . Sakura says you won’t live long . . .”

“Personally, I think we’ve past that point of worrying,” Itachi said. “If I was going to die it should have happened already. Now, it’s just a matter of managing with things the way they are.”

“But . . . what if you don’t get better? What if you only get worse?” Sasuke looked stricken. He repeated, in a mere whisper, “I just got you back . . .”

“And I’m not going anywhere,” Itachi reassured. “I will survive this. I will be at your side for years and years to come.”

Sasuke wiped at his eyes, trying hard to make it look as though he wasn’t. “Sakura said that’s impossible.”

“Well,” Itachi offered him a soft smile. “It won’t be the first time I’ve done the impossible.”

 

When Itachi woke up next – and he had no idea what the time was, or what day it was, because his sleep pattern had been scrambled, and he couldn’t read the clock on the wall – he was not alone. That in itself was not unusual; Shisui was almost constantly present.

But it wasn’t Shisui, sitting quietly by his bedside and flicking absently through a book. It was Izumi, who looked up when his eyes opened and offered a serene smile. “Morning. How are you feeling?”

The persistent ache in his chest had gone. He evaluated carefully. “Better, I think.”

“Shisui said you’ve been bored,” Izumi explained. “So I bought you a book. He said you had been meaning to get to it, but life had . . . well, things got out of control.” She placed the book on the small table beside him. “He also said I should find the Braille version, but I don’t know how serious he was about that.”

“Ignore him,” Itachi said, lips twitching up. “He’s being dramatic.”

“I also brought the lily,” Izumi said, shifting her chair slightly so Itachi could clearly see the plant.

He smiled gratefully at her, reaching out a hand to brush his fingers along the long leaves. “Thank you.”

“I thought you might be missing it.”

The lily was full of buds, tight little white and green balls preparing to open. Itachi’s fingers touched each one, counting them, making sure nothing had changed. There was one extra, one small little flower beginning to grow.

“Also, Shisui said I needed to bring your ‘Mini Captain’ mug for tea.” Izumi added, and Itachi finally gave into the urge and rolled his eyes. “So that’s here, too.”

He sighed.

Izumi looked at him fondly. “You scared me to death on that battlefield.”

“I’m hearing that a lot, lately.”

“Please, get better now, and stop pushing yourself so hard. It’s over now.”

“It’s only over once the peace agreements are signed, and the Leaf has accepted Sasuke back without animosity.” Itachi pointed out. “Then, I will rest. Shisui keeps talking about going on holiday.”

“Good. You deserve the break.” She sighed. “And the clan is fine, because I know you’re worrying about that, too. There’s nothing that needs your attention right now. We have everything under control.”

He nodded. “Thank you.” He paused. “I need the clan here. I have something I need to discuss with them.”

“You’re in the hospital.”

“Luckily,” Itachi said, “They allow people into hospitals. Can you gather everyone? And please go past my house and collect the papers on the left corner of my desk in my study. You also need to collect a paper from Tsunade, she knows exactly which one it is.”

“Right now? You’re supposed to be resting. Tsunade will blow a gasket if you work.”

“I am not putting this off any longer.” His dark eyes were narrowed, steely determination shining through.

Izumi just nodded, slowly. “Okay. Whatever you need. Sasuke as well?”

“Yes, if he’s allowed. I think he should hear this too.”

Izumi eyed him suspiciously. “What are you planning? You’ve got that look on your face that says it’s something very important that is probably going to cause trouble.”

Itachi looked innocent. “How much more trouble could I possibly cause?”

 

Itachi did not paint the most convincing picture of health, sitting up in bed with his hair tied back loosely, skin pale and looking somewhat drawn and exhausted, but the clan made no comments of his appearance. They assembled politely, wedged into the room, with Izumi at his right, Shisui at his left, and Sasuke and Naruto standing by the door, with two Anbu guards a suitable distance away, eyes on Sasuke.

“Thank you all for coming.” Even half dead, Itachi could still hold the attention of a room, still exuded his usual air of authority. Everyone listened attentively, clearly wondering what could be so important that it couldn’t have waited until Itachi was feeling stronger. “I suppose there is no point in being cryptic and delaying anything, so I will just say what I need to say. Since I am your clan head and you all take an unnecessarily curious interest in my personal life and legacy to this clan, I want to inform everyone that I have begun to make arrangements to get married.”

Every head in the room swivelled as one to Izumi. She raised an eyebrow, and shook her head slowly.

Itachi could see Sasuke eying him, expression closed off and blank. “Not to Izumi. To Shisui.”

Shisui’s heart jumped slightly. Part of him wished Itachi put more thought into dropping bombshells, because this conversation seemed like one they could have eased into a bit better. He knew he was sounding hypocritical, because he had been hounding Itachi for years to tell the rest of the clan, and it had been Itachi who insisted they wait until he deemed it a good time. Now, Shisui wished there was never a good time. They could have kept it a secret forever. He swallowed, throat suddenly feeling dry. His attention was drawn to the door, when a single sound could be heard over the silence. Sasuke had turned away, and stalked out the room.

For a moment, Naruto stood undecided, then flashed Shisui a bright, apologetic smile and bolted after his friend.

One of the older Uchiha cleared his throat softly, and asked, not in an accusing tone, but cautiously, “Is that even legal?”

“As a matter of fact,” Itachi flicked his eyes to Izumi, who handed him the stack of papers she had fetched from his desk before the meeting. “Same sex marriage was legalized in the Leaf directly after the second shinobi war, although at the time it was understood that it was a privilege only to civilians or lower ranked shinobi who were not in a position of power. Five years later it became open to anyone although it was ‘discouraged’ amongst the more affluent or influential.”

Shisui and Izumi shared a glance over the top of Itachi’s head. Did they really need a full history lesson, when a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ would have sufficed?

“Since the law has been passed, a total of seven marriage licenses have been issued in Konoha, all to civilians. Most shinobi chose not make their relationships public knowledge, and at best we can only estimate the number of same sex couples in the Leaf-“

“Itachi,” Izumi interrupted quietly. “No one cares.”

“Legality is not an issue here,” Itachi continued undeterred. “I have already ensured that everything is valid and within the boundaries of the law. I also have an official letter from the Hokage here approving _this_ ,” he deftly rearranged the papers in his lap, selecting one that looked much older and more worn than the others, clearly carried and used for some time, “Which is the eighth marriage license, so far unsigned, but all the details are already filled in.”

He held it out to Shisui, with a gentle smile. Shisui took it, looking it over, hands shaking slightly. Had Itachi been carrying this around with him? Shisui checked the date on it – for _months?_

Shisui sat down rather abruptly, with a muffled, token, “Ouch,” at the pain that spiked up his back.

“It took a lot of paperwork to get that,” Itachi told him, smiling. “I thought you’d appreciate it being done as soon as possible. We can sign whenever you’re ready, and then everything is legal. Everything is confirmed.” He turned back to the clan. “This is more to inform you of my choice rather than ask your opinion on it. That is mostly due to the fact that I don’t care; I am doing this irrespective of anything anyone wants to add, but feel free to express your opinions anyway.”

Shisui let out a loud, strained breath, staring at the paper in his hands and looking ghostly pale. “Could have given me a heads up you were going to do this.” They could literally, legally, be married in a second; all Shisui needed was a pen. The room was spinning slightly.

“I could have.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No, I didn’t,” Itachi agreed, still supremely unruffled. He sat expectantly, waiting for the inevitable backlash the clan would bring. Sure enough, it came, albeit more tentatively than he expected.

“I have to object.” Uruchi was a generally friendly old woman, kindly and generous. Itachi expected her to comment; it was not the younger Uchihas he was concerned about. The elders would cling to tradition, and custom, and he knew they would protest his and Shisui’s relationship, even if the protest was unfounded and idiotic.

“Why?” he asked calmly. He could feel Shisui’s chakra waver at his side, uncertain.

“Because . . .” Uruchi paused, obviously struggling to come up with a plausible reason. After a moment, she added, “You two are related.”

There was a short, trembling silence that followed. Itachi’s expression was completely deadpan, and Shisui remained tight-lipped and pale, unwilling to say anything.

Without a word, without even a flinch, or a falter, Itachi unfolded a single large paper, and turned it to lay flat, facing the clan, at the foot of his bed.

“What is that?” Uruchi asked, somewhat suspicious.

“The Uchiha clan family tree.”

There was deafening silence. It was broken only by a short, derisive snort from Shisui that he couldn’t keep in any longer. Unintimidated, Itachi remained calm, in control, and wordlessly reached for the piece of paper, folding it up again in silence.

“Are there any more objections?” he asked.

The room remained still. Shisui thought this was the quietest clan meeting ever. He held his paper protectively towards his chest, as though someone would dare snatch it away. He didn’t want to sign it now. He wanted a big fuss, and attention, and everyone knowing. But he wasn’t going to let it go until then; this paper was staying with him no matter what happened.

“Have you considered . . .” One of the elder men spoke up, slightly timid in his words, no doubt unwilling to raise any more ire from the young clan head who had so far batted away any oppositions with a seemingly endless arsenal of solutions. “The . . . morality . . . of this?”

Shisui could see the change in Itachi clearly, the sudden shift from quiet control to barely contained fury. There was a subtle narrowing his eyes, whole expression morphing into something spectacular, because the man actually took a step back, and when Itachi spoke there was a different level of quietness in his voice. Steel hard, authoritative, and daring insubordination.

The infamous Uchiha fire, that people tended to forget burned in Itachi more brightly than in anyone else. “Have I considered the _morality_ of dedicating the rest of my life to someone whom I love without equal? Have I considered the _morality_ of sharing my heart with someone who has been by my side throughout every joy and tragedy, has stood alongside me throughout the most dangerous missions, has ensured that I was taken care of every single day? Yes,” he snarled. “I have considered the morality of it. I would consider it far more moral to choose love over any outdated tradition that doesn’t account for compatibility or anything beyond the _clan_ – individuality is what makes us who we are.

“We are each our own person and I know who I am. I am the one who decides the future of my clan. I am the one who decides where I take my life. I have been forced to kill hundreds in the pursuit of a greater good, I have given up years of my life to gain what I have now – and I will not give it up just because you have an obsolete view on what life should be. Everything I fought for was for a better life. And I deserve to share that – and select my own ‘better life’. If being happy is considered a luxury morality denies me then morality needs to be redefined. I’ve made my definition. Deal with it.”

And Uchihas just never gave up. “What would-“

“Before anyone _dares_ utter either of my parents’ names,” Itachi said darkly, “They always wanted me to follow what I thought was right. They wanted me to be able to live a life, _happy_ , that I chose to live. The idea of being forced to be with someone purely for political gain sickened them, and to them there was only one acceptable reason for marriage.

“If it is wrong to commit the rest of my days to someone I love, cherish and wish to protect above all others, then the idea of ‘right’ needs to be challenged. It needs to be changed. And so far I’ve managed to change the whole world. I will change this too.

“Like everything else in my life, this is my choice. And so far, my judgement and decisions have been considered good enough. I chose to be named the head of Anbu. I chose to be added to the council. I chose to protect and defend this village. I chose to bring all five Kage villages together. I chose to bring _nations_ together. So no one can tell me that my choice in loving Shisui is wrong.

“No one can tell me that I am making the wrong decisions in my life, because so far I have achieved all that I set out to do – to better the world and myself. And both the world, and I, are better for having Shisui by my side.”

Izumi thought this was the quietest the clan had ever been at a gathering. No one uttered a sound.

True to form, however, it was Shisui that broke the silence and decimated the sense of seriousness that was lingering. “Apparently, we kept this a secret for so long because Itachi was fucking _perfecting_ this speech.”


	43. 42 - The Last Piece

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this might be my favourite chapter; I don't know why. Only two left, though : (

Things had settled down, and life seemed almost normal. Shisui had spent almost all his time at the hospital with Itachi, but he had visited Sasuke and Naruto every day if they didn’t cross paths at the hospital, checking on how they were doing. Well, checking on Sasuke – who was still getting disoriented on occasion, confused and only vaguely remembering the events of the battle and the last few months. Sasuke also spent every spare second he was allowed with Itachi, studiously ignoring the Anbu guards who shadowed his every move – he didn’t care how closely he was watched as long as he could spend as much time as possible with his brother.

Itachi had been quiet, but steadily getting stronger. He would wander around the hospital, often with Izumi, who was there almost as much as Shisui and Sasuke, and Tsunade was like a mother hen, hovering around him and insisting he ate, and moved, and slept, and woke up.

If the fuss bothered Itachi he had been wonderfully silent about it, seeming content to accept the coddling and the anxious inspections.

When Shisui entered his room now, Itachi was lying down reading, his hair pulled back like usual, and gloriously free of the numerous tubes and wires that had been connected to him for days.

“Up for a walk?” Shisui asked, leaning against the doorway until he was certain Itachi had noticed him.

Itachi looked up from his book, his eyes not quite meeting Shisui’s. “I guess so.”

“And you’re not fooling anyone, you can’t even see enough to read.”

“I’m not that blind,” Itachi protested mildly. He put the book down anyway, and took a few moments to gather himself enough to stand up. It bothered Shisui immensely. He wanted his quick-fire Itachi back, not this one who took ages just to stand up, who was paler than ever before, who looked like a skeleton.

But he said nothing, because Itachi was alive, and standing, and talking, and maybe that was enough for now. It was still strange, though, to look at him. And Shisui looked a lot, watching him almost obsessively.

As they walked slowly outside into the sunshine, Shisui watched and noticed and tried not to despair. Itachi didn’t look the way he used to. Not all lithe lines and dark eyes and sharp movements. He moved slowly, you could always hear him breathe, the angles in his body were more pronounced.

“You need to eat more,” Shisui remarked, staring at the line of Itachi’s collarbone, peeking out through the low collar of the simple shirt he wore.

“You need to worry less.” And his dark eyes weren’t as dark as they used to be, but veiled in grey, and frequently focused on things he wasn’t trying to look at.

Shisui snorted. “That, coming from you? You’re the absolute king of worrying.”

“It doesn’t seem unreasonable to worry when you insist on breaking your spine.”

“It’s not _broken_ broken,” Shisui corrected. “Just slightly broken. And I’m fine, see? I’m walking . . . sort of . . .”

“Hey!” They were interrupted by a loud, cheerful yell. Naruto was walking towards them, waving madly. “Hi guys.”

“Hi,” Itachi said, and Shisui gave him a nod.

“What are you doing here?” Shisui asked curiously, because why would Naruto be making a beeline to the hospital unless he had injured himself? He looked very healthy to Shisui.

“Looking for Tsunade,” Naruto replied easily. “We’ve got to talk about the meeting – I get to be there.”

“Meeting?” Itachi echoed. Shisui saw the flicker of panic cross his face at not knowing something, a spark of uncertainty in his own mental prowess.

“You were unconscious when we discussed it last time,” Shisui informed him, and Itachi relaxed again.

“The Kage summit,” Naruto explained proudly. “Because we’re all at peace now.”

Itachi’s soft smile was fond. “Are we?”

“Well, sort of,” Naruto amended. “But that’s what this meeting is all about. You know, banishing any conflicts that are still around. All getting along. Signing the peace accords. You’re coming, right?”

Itachi looked surprised. “Me?”

“Yeah, the summit’s next week. Because it was, like, you who managed it all. You should be there.” Naruto smiled broadly. “I’ll be there, too. Good experience for becoming Hokage.”

Shisui snorted. Itachi would have elbowed him in the ribs if he’d had the strength to spare, but instead settled for shooting him a sideways glare. Shisui did not look abashed.

“I will be Hokage,” Naruto said, sending his own disapproving glare at Shisui. “That’s a promise. So I need to get used to this political stuff. Anyway,” he brightened again. “You will be there?”

“Of course,” Itachi said. “I’ll be there.”

“Great.” Naruto beamed. Shisui wondered how much happier he could look. “I’m going to find Tsunade now – I’m not supposed to leave Sasuke alone for long. See you at the meeting.” He waved cheerily before leaping away.

Shisui shook his head. “That kid has too much energy.”

“He’s a good kid.”

“He’s a nutcase.” Shisui turned to face Itachi. “Want to go home?”

“Can you walk that far?”

“Can _you_?” Shisui shot back.

“No,” Itachi smiled. “Probably not.” His smile vanished as he began coughing again, dry, racking sounds that had Shisui edging closer to him.

Shisui placed a hand on his back, trying to cushion the rib-cracking spasms. He tried not to worry too much; this was becoming a rather frequent occurrence, but he would never get used to the sight of blood flying out Itachi’s mouth as he coughed, over and over. When Itachi finally stopped, bent over with blood still dripping from his mouth, Shisui spoke quietly, “Sit down.”

There was a bench just a few feet away. Shisui always made sure there was somewhere to sit close by when he and Itachi were out walking. He didn’t care if it made him seem over protective. He ushered Itachi there carefully, sitting gingerly. It didn’t matter how gently he sat, pain still shot up his spine.

Itachi sat next to him, elbows resting on his knees and upper body tipped forward. The steady drip of blood continued, his breathing was a terrible, grating, inconsistent noise. After a few more minutes, he wiped one hand across his mouth and swallowed down any remaining blood.

“You okay?” Shisui asked, even though the answer was shockingly clear.

Itachi just nodded, lips pressed together tightly. The familiar pain in his chest sharpened slightly, and he was careful not to breathe too deeply.

“I should take you back to the hospital,” Shisui said, sounding unusually anxious.

Itachi shook his head. “It’s fine, just give me a minute. I want to go home.”

“Itachi, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly in a position to carry you when you collapse.” He rattled his crutches helpfully.

Itachi’s lips twitched up in a smile. “It’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, the two great Uchiha geniuses stuck on the floor like stranded fish because one of them is too stubborn to admit when he can’t walk all the way home on his own.”

Itachi’s smile broadened. “And yet the other one is still stuck with him, because he followed when he knew he couldn’t.”

“I already told you,” Shisui said, voice dropping to a soft sigh. He put an arm around Itachi’s shoulders and pulled him close. “I’ll follow you anywhere.”

“Anywhere?”

“To the ends of the earth, if that’s where you lead.” He pressed a kiss to Itachi’s hair. “But, I suppose, home will do for now.”

 

“You could have called me,” Sasuke grumbled, looking irritated and worried. “I wasn’t far away.”

“We’re fine,” Shisui said breezily. “Don’t get all dramatic like your brother. We’re home, we’re all in one piece, and we did it without any fuss.”

Sasuke stared at Shisui in disbelief. “Izumi said Itachi threw up about half a litre of blood.”

“Coughed.” Itachi corrected quietly from the couch, where he had been deposited by a none too pleased Izumi.

“What?” Sasuke asked, turning his attention away from Shisui, who was leaning against the wall, because sitting down hurt his back.

“Coughed. I didn’t throw up blood, I coughed up blood.”

“Because that’s what’s important,” Sasuke seethed. “The point is, you should have called. I don’t need to panic about you collapsing in the street every day, you know?”

“Ah, the great Uchiha Itachi,” Shisui mused. “Shinobi at seven, Anbu captain at thirteen, and dead in the street at twenty from a walk home.”

Itachi chuckled dryly. He was lying on his back, too exhausted to sit for long, with his eyes closed and the beginnings of a headache forming.

Sasuke looked considerably less amused. “Don’t do it again. Nii-san, you need to look after yourself now.” He threw an irritated look at Shisui. “And you’re even worse. You encourage him.”

“That’s what a good partner does,” Shisui replied, and Sasuke wanted to throttle him. It was not the first time the urge had come up, and Sasuke was certain it wouldn’t be the last.

“Play nice,” Itachi murmured. “I can’t see you two, but I know Sasuke wants to strangle you.”

“He’s wanted to do that since he was five,” Shisui brushed it off.

“One day I’ll give in to the urge,” Sasuke deadpanned. He ignored Shisui in favour of turning back to his brother, who was doing a passable imitation of a corpse. “I’ll make you some tea. Sakura said it was important for you to keep hydrated.”

“That applies to all people,” Itachi returned. “But since you offered, the jasmine tea is the top left one.”

Sasuke grumbled some more as he stalked out the lounge into the kitchen, and his mutterings could still be heard.

“Well,” Shisui said, shifting himself upright on his crutches. “I’ll have a shower quick. If I don’t come out in ten minutes, I fell and got stuck. Send Sasuke to get me.”

“I’ll leave you there to drown!” Sasuke yelled from the kitchen.

“How rude,” Shisui shook his head. “If you hear a thud, please come get me.”

“I can’t walk right now,” Itachi muttered, eyes still closed and one arm laid over them.

“Fine, fine, I won’t fall.”

“I hope you do,” Sasuke shouted.

“Jerk.”

“Cripple.”

“Traitor.”

“Both of you, grow up,” Itachi sighed.

“No fun in that,” Shisui said, but he stopped screaming names across the house and instead made his way to the bathroom.

As it turned out, he didn’t slip and fall and drown himself in the shower, which was a relief because he wasn’t entirely certain Sasuke would have come to his aid. By the time he’d shuffled back out into the lounge, Itachi was lying on his side, eyes closed, his breathing the usual rasp that indicated sleep.

“Still awake, there?” Shisui asked, edging closer.

Itachi sighed in reply, eyes remaining closed.

Shisui propped his crutches against the side of the couch and carefully climbed on behind Itachi. Itachi shifted back immediately, pressing into the warmth of Shisui’s body. These days, it seemed like Itachi was always cold, and Shisui put an arm over him, holding him gently against his chest. He was small and bony, and Shisui longed for the days when Itachi’s body was deadly power kept wrapped in tight, lithe muscle.

“Soon,” he whispered gently, and Itachi relaxed a fraction at the sound of his voice. “You’ll get better soon.”

He got no reply, just the soft rasp of Itachi’s breathing. Shisui shifted slightly, just so he was able to crane his head and reach to press a gentle kiss to the smooth skin of Itachi’s cheek. He grasped one of Itachi’s hands, trying to warm his cold fingers.

Sasuke came into the lounge shortly after, saying absolutely nothing, but carrying a blanket. He slung it gently over Itachi, pausing when Itachi flinched at the sensation. Sasuke remained there, just staring at his brother. Trying to come to terms with everything, because the last time they had been close, Itachi had been power and speed and death incarnate. Now . . . he was more fragile, and the difference was astonishing and nauseating.

Sasuke cleared his throat softly, still watching Itachi as he muttered. “You better look after him.”

“I will,” Shisui promised. “Forever.”

 

“I’m not happy,” Tsunade said flatly, looking at Itachi over her desk with a pensive frown.

Itachi just smiled serenely at her.

“I swear to god, Itachi, if you ever scare me like that again I will kill you.”

There was an innocent little tilt to his head. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, you’re a wreck, and it’s driving me insane because you insist on vomiting blood everywhere and scaring the whole village senseless.”

“Coughing,” Itachi corrected. He ignored the glare he received. “And I’m not doing it on purpose.”

“Can you not control him?” Tsunade turned her frown to Shisui, who was sitting next to Itachi, legs outstretched and grinning at the entire exchange.

“Nope,” he said merrily. “No one can.”

“How is he getting out the house on his own?” Tsunade questioned, as though Itachi were meant to be under house arrest and supervised at all times. “He was in a _council meeting_ yesterday – you are supposed to keep an eye on him!”

“I had therapy,” Shisui said defensively. “And I don’t know how he escaped.”

“I can walk,” Itachi interjected mildly. “And for the record, Naruto walked with me.”

Yesterday’s meeting had been one he wasn’t going to miss. It had been a discussion on Sasuke, and whether or not to allow him back into Konoha. After a period of time as a missing nin, racking up kills and participating in all sorts of illegal activities, the village was understandably reluctant to allow him back inside.

However, it had not been Sasuke’s choice to do any of the things he had been subjected to in the last few years. The cursed seal had taken over his mind, and changed his thoughts. Since Itachi had eradicated it, Sasuke had been confused and disoriented, missing huge chunks of memories from the last three years. He had been staying with Naruto, because the council had not allowed him to be unsupervised, and was still undergoing evaluations and tests to determine his state of mind.

Itachi wouldn’t have missed the meeting for anything. Naruto had been more than happy to spirit Itachi away without anyone knowing – because everyone seemed to think he was going to keel over dead at the slightest whisper, and it got to be rather irritating. He had been gaining strength steadily; Naruto was merely a precaution in case his heart stuttered or he collapsed.

“Stay at home,” Tsunade said warningly. “You are on medical leave, I don’t want to see you anywhere other than resting. You need to relax for a while.”

Itachi shrugged. “I have things to do.”

“I swear, I will come to your house and tie you to the bed if I have to.”

“You’ll never get him to relax that way,” Shisui mumbled, and Itachi shot him a disapproving glare. “What?”

Tsunade sighed. “I don’t care what you two get up to behind closed doors, just keep an eye on him, Shisui. Can’t you tire him out or something so he has no inclination to leave the house?”

Shisui squirmed. “I tried. He threw up blood on me.”

“Coughed.”

“Shut up.”

Tsunade leant her face into her palm, looking defeated. “Ugh, damn Uchihas. Fine, here’s the plan. Itachi, if you move from your house in the next week I will readmit you to the hospital – that you never checked out of, do have any idea how much Sakura panicked when she found you gone? – and if I have to, I will post one of your Anbu teams at your house. If you so much as sweep the floor, I will know.”

He nodded politely, still serene.

“Until the summit meeting,” Tsunade said firmly. “You will not move a muscle. Your heart is too weak to strain again. If you want to see this idiotic dream through to the end, then you’ll rest.”

“But I did see it through to the end,” Itachi said softly, sounding so pleased with himself. “Five signatures. That’s the very last step. And they will happen.” There was a beautiful soft glow to his expression. “I did it.”

Tsunade couldn’t stay angry at that. She sighed, deflated. “Yes, you did.”

 

Everyone seemed anxious over Itachi’s health, except for Itachi himself. Shisui agonised all night long, listening to the desperate rasp to his breathing. Sasuke was tense and drawn when Itachi was nearby, staring at skin still too pale, and a body that had lost so much of the lithe tightness to it that used to contain masses of raw power. Tsunade fretted over his heart and his lungs, pumping chakra into him at any opportunity.

Even Naruto had clued in that Itachi was delicate now, although how long that would last remained to be seen. Shisui still waited with bated breath for Itachi to fall over dead in an instant, not at all assured that he was breathing and functioning – and gaining strength steadily. Itachi’s whole support system was tense and on edge, although so far he had only been improving.

Itachi, however, seemed peaceful. It was such a striking contrast from when he was younger that Shisui noticed it, deep in his soul. It struck like a bolt of lightning, while they were lying together on the couch, and Sasuke, Naruto, and Sakura were scattered in the lounge bickering over something.

Shisui was idly running a hand through Itachi’s hair, listening to the skirmish between the young team, when he suddenly noticed it – Itachi was _peaceful_. The nagging, dogging tremor that had been in his body had eased. He was no longer on edge and desperately seeking something in life. He no longer pushed himself relentlessly to attain whatever goal he had set in his mind. He seemed fulfilled. He seemed content.

It looked as though the endless journey Itachi had subjected himself was coming to a close. He had found what he needed. He had caught what he had been chasing.

He was lying against Shisui’s chest, tired dark eyes on the squabbling shinobi in his lounge, and the gentle smile was on his face, the one that usually carried an aura of sadness around it. There was no sadness in it now. Just absolute satisfaction at the scene before him, and it occurred to Shisui that this was all Itachi wanted. This was the perfect life he had almost killed himself to achieve.

Sasuke was safe, and he loved Itachi unconditionally.

The Leaf was safe, rebuilt and running like clockwork.

The clan belonged, there was no animosity, no conflict, no grudges.

The five countries were negotiating peace – and it looked as though that would happen as well. It was all but set in stone.

Itachi had a family around him, and peace in his life, and heart, and it was everything he dreamed.

All that was needed was time, to get Itachi’s health back to normal.

The council had agreed to allow Sasuke to call himself a Leaf shinobi once again, although there were rules and contingencies in place, and for now Naruto was following them to the letter. Sasuke was spending most nights with him still, under constant guard, but he came home to his brother each morning, desperately making up for lost time.

The gentleness of the two brothers’ interactions had long since been replaced with increasingly loud shouting, as Naruto defended some anecdote from their Academy days and Sasuke tore the story apart. Sakura’s exasperated interjections were going unheard, and Shisui was grinning at them.

Itachi liked it when they were altogether, content to just watch and immerse himself in an environment that wasn’t high stress and constantly shifting goals. He lived for the peaceful domestic moments – loud as they may be – and Shisui wondered if it made him feel like he had a life again, something defining him beyond just ‘shinobi’.

Whatever it was, it was satisfying to see Itachi enjoying life, especially since he should have had his snuffed out weeks ago.

Sasuke and Naruto both stopped mid-sentence when there was a cursory knock at the front door that preceded two people entering into the lounge. Tsunade and Kakashi both looked cautiously pleased.

“Do you lot have a minute?” Tsunade asked.

Sasuke looked hesitant, perhaps expecting some sort of punishment or admonition for the past, but he glanced to his teammates for moral support, and Sakura gave him a short nod that seemed to ground him.

“Of course.” Itachi sat up a bit straighter, disentangling himself from Shisui, automatically presenting himself a bit more professionally. Slightly self-conscious, caught in ‘home mode’, he smoothed his hair down and tucked the red shell around his neck into his shirt.

“How are you feeling?” Tsunade asked. She was one of the few people who could receive an honest answer to that question, avoiding the automatic and inevitable ‘fine’.

Itachi took a moment to consider. “Better, actually. I’m not getting tired as easily.”

“How’s your heart been?”

“Hasn’t given any trouble.”

“How are the wedding plans going?” Tsunade glanced at Shisui.

He shrugged. “We’re waiting ‘til Itachi’s feeling stronger before we do much more there.”

“Did you really come here just to ask about that?” Itachi asked, eying Tsunade quizzically.

“No,” she admitted freely. “I have something I need to discuss with you.”

“It’s good news,” Kakashi assured him.

Tsunade sat down in one of the open chairs. “Kakashi thinks its good news, anyway.”

The Copy nin smiled indulgently. “Well, it is. For me.”

“It turns out that you’re not dead,” Tsunade said, looking at Itachi.

He blinked. “I’m aware of that.”

“Yes, but I thought you would be. Certainly after that stunt you pulled against Madara. But, as always, you’ve managed to somehow overcome this as well. And since you’ve been recovering, against all odds and predictions, I think it’s safe to assume you are going to recover quite well – maybe not up to everything you could do before, but you were running missions sick and doing fine. With some careful management, I think you still have a future as a shinobi.”

Itachi nodded slowly, wondering where the conversation was going.

“You and I had a conversation a few months ago that neither of us wanted to have,” Tsunade said. “As you know, after that, it was Kakashi who I chose to succeed me as Hokage. And it was only because I didn’t think you were going to be around for much longer.”

 _That’s what upset him_ , Shisui thought, eying Itachi.

“I’m happy to the pass the buck,” Kakashi said cheerfully. “The village can be your problem.”

“What exactly are you saying?” Itachi frowned.

“Kakashi is no longer going to be next in line to take up the position of Hokage,” Tsunade said plainly. “It’s you.”

 _Me?_ Itachi didn’t move. He couldn’t even if he wanted to. Because finally, _finally_ , the very last piece of the dream was right there within reach. He sat perfectly still, processing and analysing.

“I know we discussed it before, about you carrying the name Uchiha and how the village wouldn’t accept it. But, that was in the past. That’s all gone, it’s all changed. The whole world knows your name now, Itachi. They know everything you’ve done, and everything you’ve changed, and I can guarantee there is not a ninja in all five countries who wouldn’t accept you for who you are.”

She eyeballed Shisui. “Even with him as your shadow.”

Shisui grinned sheepishly.

“The Kage summit is in a few days,” Tsunade continued, ignoring the absolute silence from Itachi. “Now, we won’t have time to do a full inauguration before that, obviously, and you still have a few weeks of medical leave before you can even _think_ of working. But . . . I want you at that summit.” She looked at him earnestly. “And I want your name on the papers.”

When she still received nothing but stunned silence – even Naruto had kept his mouth closed, a so far impressive feat – she produced a neatly folded letter and held it out. “And to satisfy your anal pedantic control freak needs, this is my official letter stating you as my successor.”

It was Shisui who finally took the letter, opening it and skimming through, before he looked at Itachi. There was a deep look of quiet satisfaction on his face, and that _right there_ , was exactly what Shisui thought he should look like – at peace.

With everything.

Since the day they had sat on the roof as children, watching the village and gazing at the Hokage monument, Shisui had been waiting, hoping, for Itachi to look like this. To finally have a reason not to fret and worry, and wind himself up.

This was all he wanted, and all he needed.

“Gonna say anything?” Naruto prompted, and then added, with a toothy grin. “And enjoy it while it lasts, because I’m gonna be Hokage next.”

Sasuke seemed to be waiting, to see what Itachi’s reaction was going to be, and adjust his own accordingly.

Oddly, Itachi’s first thought was responsibility oriented. “I’ll need to give Anbu to someone else . . .”

“Zo has it under control,” Shisui said with a shrug. “Also . . . I’m glad we’re over this ‘no telling’ thing because I want to kiss you now, and I’m pretty sure no one cares.”

“It was supposed to be a secret?” Tsunade asked flatly.

“Spoiler alert, Panda,” Kakashi said, “But the whole of Anbu knew before you blurted it out to your clan. Probably the worst kept secret in Konoha.”

“No more secrets,” Shisui said softly. He placed a finger under Itachi’s chin, just to keep his face steady as he pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

“Pretty sure everyone knows by now,” Kakashi said with a shrug. Sasuke was the only one who looked absolutely mortified, but maybe that was because Itachi had always been more than perfect in his eyes, and it would take him a while to wrap his head around the concept of the two of them – and seeing any sort physical display between them was too much for his mind to process.

“In hindsight,” Sakura said slowly, looking away as Shisui did not stop his kiss any time soon, “This does explain a lot.”

Tsunade cleared her throat. “There are five people watching you, tone it down Shisui.”

Shisui drew back, keeping his dark eyes on Itachi’s. He didn’t care about anyone watching. It was a moment too special for anything else to matter, other than the soft look of bliss and calm on Itachi’s face. It was breath taking. “You’re gonna be Hokage.”


	44. 43 - Sixth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is a super short epilogue so I'm just going to say good bye and thank you here instead. Thanks to everyone who read, subscribed, commented, recommended, everything. I really, really appreciate it. This story has been my entire social life for the last six months or so, and knowing people are enjoying it was really nice. Whether you were here from the start, or caught up months later, I am grateful to everyone for making me feel like my first epic, long story was worth it.
> 
> Thanks so much; everyone keep well and thanks for the support : )
> 
> \- Spice

The peace accords were signed with a trembling hand and a racing heart, every stroke across the page feeling like a victory in itself; the end of a slow, agonizing dream, suddenly rising to the surface and becoming a reality.

The moment felt too long, and not long enough. It was a moment that needed to last, but also needed to end so that the rest of the world could follow it. It was a moment that Itachi hadn’t thought would ever be in reach. And yet, here it was.

Here was everything he had worked for, and suffered for, and longed for.

“Just like that.” He breathed in amazement. _Just like that._

Tsunade clapped a hand affectionately on his shoulder, whispering in his ear, “Good job, Uchiha. You did it.”

 

Shisui tackled him the moment he left the conference room, pinning him to the wall with a clatter of crutches and one muffled grunt of surprise. He didn’t wait for confirmation that everything had gone well, because he knew there was only one answer Itachi would accept. It meant he didn’t have to waste time with talking, and whatever Itachi squeaked was muffled into Shisui’s mouth.

Shisui mumbled something back, just because he could, leaning his weight firmly against Itachi, partially to hold himself up because throwing his crutches away wasn’t the smartest thing he had done all day. And partially because it was a sure-fire way to get Itachi to cling to him, holding him tight, remaining unresisting against Shisui’s affections.

At least until they were interrupted by Sasuke sounding horrified, “Good god, do you _have to_?”

Shisui glanced back over his shoulder. Their audience so far was Sasuke, Naruto, Sakura, and Tsunade, but Shisui had no doubts that the other Kages would be emerging soon. He shrugged, and, figuring that was a question Itachi was better suited to answer, turned his attention to Itachi’s neck instead, leaving his mouth free to speak. He was considerate like that.

“No one is making you look,” Itachi replied sensibly, but he did push Shisui off him, leaning down to retrieve the discarded crutches so Shisui had no excuse to lean on him.

“And no one is making you two assault each other,” Tsunade interjected dryly. She beckoned Itachi with a finger. “I need a word with you.”

He followed her to the Hokage chambers, with everyone else in tow, curious as to what he had done this time. He ignored the sound of Sasuke’s foot kicking one of Shisui’s crutches, and the resulting yelp and scuffle as Shisui balanced himself, figuring he could worry about peace keeping between the two of them later.

Tsunade rummaged in a desk drawer, and threw a small box at him. It rattled slightly. “Aruku stopped in to chat with me the other day.” Tsunade had not met him before, and had to assume that his presence in her office had been Shisui’s doing. “He brought me that. New medication for you.”

Itachi turned the box over in his hands. The pills slid around inside it. “What is it?”

“Some concoction of plants and things from Mist. I did an analysis, doesn’t look like it’ll do you any harm. Aruku says it’ll help with the blood in your lungs. I said we’d give it a try. It’s a better solution than sticking a chest drain between your ribs every few weeks.”

“The blood is only a problem if I’m stressed or when I lie down.”

Tsunade looked at him blankly. “I see. And you don’t think drowning in blood whenever you lie down is a problem?”

When she put it like that . . . Itachi nodded. “We’ll try.”

“I’ve got to try to keep you in one piece for as long as possible,” Tsunade said. “I want to retire and _stay_ retired. So you better look after yourself.” She gestured to the box. “Let me know how you feel after taking a few. If that works, you should be fine to lie on your back in a few days, once the rest of the fluid has drained, since I know that’s when you feel it the most.”

“Oh, thank god for that, we were running out of new positions to try.” Shisui exclaimed cheerily. There was a distorted, choked sound from Sasuke.

Tsunade raised an eyebrow, and Itachi sighed. Sometimes, he wanted to throttle Shisui.

“Glad you two are having fun,” Tsunade said flatly. She shook her head slightly. “Itachi, you’ve got a full physical tonight. Then I want you to rest until the inauguration, okay? _Rest_.”

Itachi tilted his head to one side. “I do rest.”

“One more thing,” Tsunade said. There was a long, thin, rectangular box on her desk as well. “Your jewellery maker . . . What’s his name?”

“Gin,” Itachi provided.

“Yeah, he sent that through for you a few days ago. Said it was for when you signed the peace accords.” Tsunade pushed the box towards him. “I resisted the urge to peek.”

Curiously, Itachi eased the lid off the box. A long, beautifully made katana lay in folds of black satin. The sheath was covered in a woven silk, black, red and white, in a stylised flower pattern.

“That’s the peace lily,” Itachi said softly, looking closely.

“Very manly,” Shisui agreed.

Itachi chose to ignore him. He lifted the katana carefully, sliding the blade out to study it. The metal was polished to a high shine, and along the top of the blade were a series of etchings. It turned out to be the symbols of every village, stretching from the hilt to the tip of the blade. Itachi turned it over reverently. The other side of the blade was almost blank. At the very top, just under the hilt, was the Uchiha crest, and on either side were the small, perfectly rendered kanji for Itachi and Shisui’s names.

Tied just above the hand guard was a long, red ribbon.

“Wow,” Itachi breathed.

“You told him about the ribbon.” Shisui reached a hand out, fingers lifting the red fabric slightly. “It’s amazing.”

“Everyone’s here,” Itachi ran a fingertip down the etchings, mentally counting off every village. Konoha’s symbol was at the top. “It’s beautiful . . .” He continued to stare at it, reverently. After a few moments of study, he slid the blade carefully back into its sheath, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Now,” Tsunade said. “You’ve got everything you wanted. Can you please promise me that you’ll slow down, and take better care of yourself, and watch your health?”

Itachi looked at her.

“You surpassed all expectations. You’re still breathing. This is your village. So please tone down your aspirations for a while, so the rest of us can catch up with you.” At the risk of sounding too sentimental, Tsunade added, “And take your damn medication.”

Shisui edged a bit closer. “So . . .”

Itachi smiled at him. It was almost too much to take.

“How does that dream feel?”

Itachi glanced around. The village was bright and sunny outside the Hokage chambers. Sasuke was behind him, safe and home, and Shisui was smiling at him, alive and there. He looked at the katana, inscribed with the loyalty of every village. “. . . Real.”

 

“Does this look good enough?” Itachi sounded unusually small and anxious, barely concealing the tremor in his voice.

Shisui resisted the urge to answer with the automatic ‘You always look good enough’, instead turning around to see what he was supposed to be evaluating.

Itachi looked worried, standing with a frown on his face, and the bright white, new Hokage robe over his shoulders. Seeing him, with actual, _physical_ evidence of his achievements, made Shisui’s stomach flip slightly, and he drew in a deep breath, swallowing hard.

“Looks perfect,” he said, hoping his smile might ease some of Itachi’s nervousness.

It did not. “Are you sure?”

“Well, it might look better on the floor with me fucking you on top of it, but we are on a schedule today, so we’ll shelve that idea for later.”

“Don’t touch it.” Itachi took a step back, expression wary.

Shisui shrugged. “I won’t touch it. Now, would you calm down? This isn’t exactly a complicated ceremony. You are far too uptight for it.”

“Tsunade said the same thing.” Itachi held up an arm, looking critically at the stitching. “Are you sure it looks alright?”

“Love, you can’t even see it properly, just let it go.” Shisui tried to usher Itachi out of the house. “We are going to be late if you keep worrying.”

Itachi walked through the house with his eyes still on his sleeve, somehow managing to avoid walking into any walls. “I’m not sure if I’m ready for this . . .”

Shisui stopped in the doorway. Itachi paused to look back at him. “Itachi, you were born ready for this. For everything. You are achieving every single one of your life’s goals before you turn twenty-one. Trust me, you’re ready for this.” He held a hand out, waiting until Itachi took it hesitantly before adding, “I’m still following. Anywhere and everywhere. So lead me to this – it’s you and me, forever.”

Tentatively, Itachi nodded. He took his hand back so it wouldn’t interfere with Shisui’s crutches. Looking slightly calmer, he took a long, deep breath. “Let’s go.”

 

They met Tsunade on top of the large stone platform that the ceremonies were usually performed on. There were already droves of people in the open area below, waiting patiently.

The platform was unusually crowded. Sasuke was there, of course, and Sakura and Naruto had invited themselves up. Kakashi, and half of Anbu were hanging around, feeling entitled to a front row view solely due to that fact that they had worked closely with Itachi for years. Itachi was surprised Izumi hadn’t made her way up as well, but she was apparently not going to break tradition.

Sasuke had been standing off to one side, looking lonely and deep in thought, but his attention snapped up when Itachi approached, and he smiled shyly. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Itachi replied somewhat shakily.

Sasuke stared at the stone floor, frowning slightly. He eventually looked up. “Mom and Dad would be proud.”

That coaxed a half smile from Itachi.

“So am I . . .” Sasuke swallowed. “Even if it doesn’t always seem like it . . .”

“I know you are,” Itachi said.

Sasuke glanced over Itachi’s shoulder at Shisui. He looked thoughtful. “Look, I know Shisui and I don’t get along that well. And he annoys the hell out of me. And I just wanna strangle him sometimes . . .”

“He has that effect on people,” Itachi admitted. “It’s not just you.”

Sasuke huffed out a short laugh. “Good. Thought I was the problem. But,” he looked at the floor again. “I don’t want you to think I’m not . . . happy . . . for you. I am.” He heaved a sigh. “Just . . .”

After a moment of indecision, Sasuke reached his hands up to Itachi’s neck, pulling the red shell free from under his shirt. Itachi stood still, while Sasuke turned it around and fumbled briefly with the knot behind it that held the silver ring in place.

Sasuke pulled it free, studying it briefly. “You should be wearing this. I want you to.” The declaration was monumental from him, a clear acceptance and acknowledgement of the relationship between Shisui and his brother.

“Thank you,” Itachi said sincerely, slightly stunned at Sasuke’s gesture. Sasuke offered the ring, and Itachi slid it onto his finger, admiring it for a moment before turning his head to look at Shisui over his shoulder with a soft smile.

Shisui was smiling back, gentle and peaceful.

“My god, it’s sappy up here,” Tsunade said, clearing her throat loudly and failing to hide the slight tremor in her voice. “I need a drink.”

“Sounds like you’ve got some sentiment stuck in your throat,” Shisui said snidely.

“Let’s get this underway before you all start crying,” Tsunade muttered, a hand wiping suspiciously at her eyes. She lifted her head determinedly, striding to the front of the platform to overlook the many people gathered below.

Not only Leaf citizens, but there were visitors from other villages. Itachi hung back, waiting, while Tsunade spoke. He didn’t hear much of her speech, he was too busy listening to his heart pounding. The silence was too much; nothing but Tsunade’s voice could be heard. Shisui placed a hand gently on Itachi’s shoulder and he almost leapt forwards.

It took him a moment to steady himself, and by then, Tsunade was looking back at him.

“And so,” she said, eyes on him and words smiling. “I would like to introduce, for the first time, the Sixth Hokage – Uchiha Itachi.”

Taking one last, grounding breath, he stepped forward, up to Tsunade’s side, and stared at the crowd below. There was applause, and cheering, and he felt so overwhelmed by it, battling to make sense of so many powerful, swirling emotions.

He was _here_ , and he had done it.

Tsunade stepped back a few paces, leaving Itachi fixed to the spot, trying not to shake too much. He didn’t think he was succeeding. Before the cheering died down, he looked back at Shisui, and, with a stiff flick of his head, called him to his side.

Shisui came forward carefully. “Yup?”

“I made you a promise too,” Itachi sounded quietly determined. “Something I said I’d do, when this was all over.”

Shisui blinked. “Uh, what?”

“I told you, that the whole world would know you’re mine.” Itachi stared at the floor.

“I remember.” Shisui couldn’t help but look out at the village. At the thousands of faces staring at them, at the many visitors from other villages. “But I don’t understand what you’re-“

Itachi kissed him. Held him still with both hands on his face, pressed his lips gently to his. Shisui was distantly aware of the crowd erupting into cheers, and he recognised Anko’s wolf whistle, and obnoxious whooping from Tenzou and Gai.

Shisui was surprised he was still standing when Itachi pulled away, looking at him with a slightly tilted head and the beautiful smile he always tried to hide, because his legs felt like jelly and he was certain he was shaking. He gripped his crutches slightly tighter.

“Oh,” he swallowed. “That’s what you meant.”

There was a crackling sound, and they both looked up to a series of brightly coloured fireworks exploding above them.

“Who on earth . . .?” Shisui stared at the sky.

“Naruto,” Itachi said dryly. “Who else?”

Shisui was grinning. He couldn’t help it. There was still a chorus of cheering from the people around them, doubling in volume as the fireworks continued. “I often hear fireworks when I kiss you. This is just the first time anyone else has heard them too.”

Itachi was still watching the sky, eyes moving from one splash of colour to another.

“Hey, Hokage,” Shisui said, and Itachi’s attention snapped to him instantly. There was an absolute glow of pride in his eyes at the new name. “Kiss me again.”

Itachi glanced up at the fireworks once more, a seemingly never-ending display.

Kakashi shouted from nearby, “Come on, Panda, everybody’s waiting.”

Shisui laughed out loud, a happy, bubbly sound. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Itachi’s briefly. Itachi closed his eyes, taking a second to just feel everything around him. Then he brought his hands back up to Shisui’s face, holding gently, kissing him again.

It was anyone’s guess where Kakashi procured confetti from, but he was throwing it enthusiastically at them. Itachi pulled away with shiny sparkles in his hair.

“So, what’s next?” Shisui asked, looking adoringly at Itachi. “What dreams are you after now?”

“I don’t need to chase dreams anymore,” Itachi breathed, eyes intently focused on Shisui. His grip tightened just a fraction. “I’m holding mine.”


	45. Epilogue

There was something about early morning that made the world seem special. It was light, and almost surreal, and it was this time of day that Itachi liked the most.

The sun was warm on his face as he leaned against the wooden porch railings, tea in hand, and listened to the hum of birds in the distance. The trees and mountains were a misty watercolour, splashes of brightness and swirling shapes.

“So,” Shisui’s voice could be heard, along with the click and scrape of crutches. He came to stand beside Itachi, flipping a worn, folded piece of paper from finger to finger. “I’ve got something for you to sign.”

Itachi smiled. “You need two witnesses for that.”

“You’re the Hokage. I think you’ll believe its validity.” Shisui unfolded his paper, looking at it critically. “This one looks kinda worn. We should get another. Were you really carrying this around since you got it?”

“Where else would I put it?” Itachi asked sensibly. “It was important. I like to keep important things on me.”

“Apparently, I’m _very_ important then.” Shisui grinned at the look Itachi slid at him, unable to think of a suitable retort.

“Do you want to sign it now?” Itachi asked, trying to steer the conversation back on track.

“No.” Shisui folded it up again. “I don’t.”

At Itachi’s questioning raised eyebrow, he elaborated. “I want a fuss. I want a _big_ fuss. I don’t want us to just sign this, and go about our lives. I want everyone to know. I want everyone visiting from all over. I want you to braid your hair and I want to see Sasuke turn green when I kiss you.”

That pulled a light chuckle from Itachi. He nodded. “Anything else?”

“I want to put the village on hold, and I want a huge celebration. I want everyone to know. I want to be _walking_.”

The way Itachi looked at him made Shisui’s heart race – a look of absolute adoration, calmness, the peace that they had craved for so many years. “Anything for you.”

“What about you?” Shisui asked.

Itachi looked somewhat surprised. “What about me?”

“What do you want?”

With a light sigh, Itachi leaned his head against Shisui’s shoulder. He closed his eyes, enjoying the moment. “I already have everything I want, and everything I need.”

 

 

 

 

The End

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading


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